Karma, Fate or Two Souls that Belong Together
by dawneh
Summary: Sequel to Karma, Fate or the Universes Cruel Sense of Humour
1. Chapter 1

As a teenager John Paul McQueen had hated mornings, preferring to lie in his bed until the last possible second, stretching out those final moments of slumber before he had to face the start of a new day.

At nearly thirty years old the man that teenager had grown into still hated forcing himself from the comfort of his bed in the mornings, but these days it wasn't sleep that he craved as he lay there.

For eighteen months Craig Dean had shared John Paul's bed, shared his life, and yet every morning as the blonde man awoke it still felt like an impossible dream that two lost loves could have been reunited again and that their love had been proven to be stronger than ever.

John Paul had been barely more than a boy when he had fallen in love with Craig, the dark haired man stumbling into his life and changing it forever. John Paul hadn't known how love felt until he experienced it with Craig, he hadn't known how much love could hurt until he had lost it and he hadn't known how it could survive untended until he had seen Craig again ten years after they had parted.

John Paul watched as Craig slept, the duvet had been pushed down to their waists during the warmth of the night and Craig's firmly toned chest rose and fell with his slow steady breaths. Running one finger lightly over the deep olive skin John Paul smiled as his own pale complexion contrasted sharply against that of his lovers. A perfect yin and yang, two contrasting halves of the same whole, making them both complete. John Paul hadn't even realised he was incomplete until the day he held Craig in his arms again, hadn't known that his life had been built on lies until Craig brought back the truth.

Craig murmured softly in his sleep, his long dark eyelashes fluttering against his soft cheeks as he dreamed of things that John Paul could only imagine.

Letting his hand trail lower John Paul stroked softly over Craig's taught belly, the sight of his sleeping beauty making the younger man bite his lip as he slowly exposed more of his lover's naked flesh.

It didn't matter how many times John Paul saw Craig's body, how many times he touched it or tasted it or made love to it, every time felt new and exciting and at that moment, allowing his eyes to roam freely over Craig's sleeping body, John Paul felt his own flesh responding with desire.

Leaning forward John Paul touched a feather light kiss to Craig's lips, a whisper of a kiss that made the man stir slightly without waking and mumble a soft sigh. John Paul smiled as he dusted Craig's chest with gentle kisses, his lips circling one of the man's nipples, which stood to attention as his tongue tickled over it.

Craig's back arched slightly as a breath of a whimper fell from his lips, making John Paul wonder just how fast asleep his boyfriend really was as his tongue made a slow path down towards Craig's belly.

Easing the duvet back below Craig's thighs John Paul saw that, conscious or not, a part of Craig's anatomy was now fully awake and looking in growing need of attention.

Scraping his nails lightly over the soft skin on the inside of Craig's thighs John Paul watched Craig's cock twitch in response to his touch as it grew rapidly firmer, standing out from its soft dark nest of pubic hair with the first drops of precum already glistening at its tip.

Casting his gaze back towards Craig's face John Paul saw that the man's eyes were still closed, albeit less tightly than they had been and his lips were parted slightly as his breath came out in soft pants.

John Paul smiled as he blew a warm stream of hot air along the length of his "sleeping" boyfriend's cock before touching his tongue to its tip, an action that elicited an audible gasp from Craig. Circling his tongue around the head of Craig's cock John Paul lapped up the droplets of precum before sweeping his tongue along the length of Craig's fully engorged erection, from tip to base and back again to the sounds of a deep growl that rumbled in Craig's throat.

There was no denying that John Paul's attentions had now woken his lover but somehow the pretence that Craig was still sleeping, and therefore completely at his mercy, seemed to make the situation feel all the more erotic.

Probing the tip of his tongue into the sensitive slit at the head of Craig's cock made the dark haired man shudder with pleasure and John Paul could almost hear Craig begging John Paul to suck him, but he couldn't, because he was "asleep."

Gripping onto the shaft of Craig's cock John Paul slowly eased back the foreskin to expose its darkly purpled swollen head, which was gently taken between his lips like a favourite brand of lollipop and sucked and licked just as keenly as any greedy child would consume a confectionary.

Craig's fingers curled into the soft white sheets beneath him as John Paul's mouth opened wider to devour even more of his length.

Craig's breathing grew more ragged and agitated the harder that John Paul sucked, his hips raising up from the bed to push his cock deeper into John Paul's throat with an urgent need for satisfaction.

John Paul wrapped his tongue around the thickness that filled his mouth, his saliva coating the length of Craig's cock as he bobbed up and down on it, making it throb heavily as its salty essence was coaxed from it to trickle down John Paul's throat.

Craig cried out as his body began to shudder, his pretence at sleeping completely abandoned as his fingers sank into John Paul's hair, gripping it tightly as he came, his cock shooting rivers of heat into John Paul's mouth until his body came to a quivering rest.

Licking his lips as he let Craig's sated cock fall from his mouth John Paul smiled, his hands on each side of the man's body as he made his way back towards the head of the bed.

Craig's rich brown eyes were open and they stared at John Paul with adoration as the blonde man brought his mouth to Craig's soft lips and kissed him with a hungry passion. Craig stroked his hands over John Paul's broad back as they kissed, the hardness of John Paul's neglected cock pushing into Craig's belly making the younger man moan as the pressure of their bodies caused a delicious friction against it.

Pushing his hand between them Craig wrapped his fingers around John Paul's erection, stroking it slowly but firmly as their kiss intensified, their tongues dancing within the heat of their mouths, sharing a taste that was unique to the two of them.

John Paul groaned as Craig's grip tightened, his strokes going faster in response to the sounds of pleasure coming from his lover's mouth before being consumed by their kiss.

"Oh god…" John Paul panted, breaking contact with Craig's lips as the first wash of his orgasm hit. With his free hand Craig pulled John Paul's head back to him, kissing the younger man deeply as he masturbated him faster until John Paul's body trembled and the heat of his climax splattered against the men's belly's leaving him breathless and satisfied.

"Good morning," John Paul said with a throaty laugh.

"It certainly is," Craig agreed, "You can wake me up like that anytime!"

"Well I figured I had to make it up to you," John Paul said with a sad smile as he moved to Craig's side and pulled the man tightly into his arms.

Craig sighed as he remembered what day it was.

"I can't believe you have to work on a Saturday… any Saturday… but especially not this Saturday," he said dejectedly.

"I know, I'm sorry… if I could get out of it I would… you know that right?"

"I know, it's just…" Craig shrugged sadly. Craig had been planning the weekend away for the past two months, everything was booked and they had both been looking forward to getting out of bustle of Manchester's city streets for a relaxing couple of days in the country. Unfortunately the plans were dashed only a couple of days earlier when John Paul had been informed that his presence was required in the office that Saturday and, try as he might, there was no one else available to cover for him.

"We'll go another time," John Paul promised as he kissed his husband's lips tenderly. He hated letting Craig down this way, hated seeing the look of disappointment glistening in the man's rich brown eyes as Craig watched all of his careful planning come to nothing.

"It was gonna be amazing," Craig grumbled quietly, his mouth in a pout that would have looked comical if his eyes hadn't been so sad.

"I'll make it up to you," John Paul said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah…"

"How?"

"Anyway you want…"

Craig laughed, a low deep rumble in his throat. "Well you could try some more of that waking me up stuff!"

John Paul joined in with Craig's rich laughter, his hands already stroking the curve of the man's sides until his gaze caught a glimpse of the bedside clock.

"Shit," he said as he pulled away from his boyfriend and clambered from the bed.

"What?"

"I'm gonna have to get going soon…"

"What am I gonna do all day?" Craig asked pitifully.

"Well you could wait there till I get home again!" John Paul teased.

"Yeah right," Craig replied as he grabbed a pillow and threw it at the blonde man's head.

* * *

Pulling on his dressing gown Craig padded barefoot to the kitchen to fill the kettle as John Paul grabbed a quick shower before dressing. Stopping at the door Craig picked up the mail, flicking through the envelopes as he waited for the kettle to boil.

His eyes glanced over a familiar array of bills and junk mail until reaching one small white envelope that stood out from the rest and bore Craig's name and address in a neat stylised handwriting. Not recognising the writing Craig quickly tore open the envelope to read the short letter inside.

"Anything interesting in the post?" John Paul asked as he entered the kitchen, straightening his tie as he approached the kitchen table.

"Nah nothing," Craig replied crumpling up the letter in his hand, "Just bills and junk, the usual stuff…"

"Typical!" John Paul replied as he turned his attention to the boiling kettle.

"Yeah," Craig agreed as he considered the letter he was holding tightly in his fist. Nothing unusual about that day's post.

* * *

John Paul twirled his pen in his fingers while absent-mindedly looking around the meeting table at his colleagues.

Normally they were a group of people that John Paul respected, liked even, but on a late Saturday afternoon they were just the people who were keeping him away from Craig. They were the reason he was sat in a boring meeting when he could have been snuggled up in a cottage with the man he loved enjoying a well-deserved break.

Letting his eyes wander to the large window John Paul inwardly grimaced as he noticed the early autumn sun beginning to set. The sky was turning into a multitude of golden colours, blended expertly together as if on some artist's palette, and painting the fading daylight with a magical glow. It would have been a beautiful sunset to watch from the window of the cottage that Craig had booked, or from the bed.

John Paul sighed. Was the meeting never going to end so that he could go home?

-

Craig flicked idly through a hundred television channels, without registering a single show or even caring what was on. But rather he let the sights and sounds wash over him in a futile attempt at providing himself with some form of distraction.

He had been sat slumped in the armchair for most of the day. His mood alternating between grumpy, annoyed and worried depending on where he allowed his mind to wander next.

With a sigh Craig pulled his dressing gown tighter around him. He hadn't bothered dressing after John Paul had left. There didn't seem much point now that he had no plans for the weekend, not that his original plans had involved much clothing anyway.

A rustle of paper from his pocket caught Craig's attention and he reached in to fish out the letter he had stuffed in there earlier. He had tried to forget the missive that had arrived with the morning post but in reality had re-read the words over and over in is mind as he sat waiting for John Paul to come home.

-

"John Paul? John Paul what do you think?"

John Paul looked up from the surface of the table at the sound of his name. His mind had been wandering and it took a second for him to be able to focus on the person who had just addressed him.

He felt a sudden panic as all eyes at the meeting turned to him him, waiting for the answer to a question that he hadn't heard. In truth he hadn't been paying much attention for the last half hour but had, instead, indulged himself in replaying the mornings wake up call that he had given Craig.

"Erm… I…" John Paul stammered, hoping that his face wasn't too flushed and grateful that the tabletop was providing cover for the effect that thinking about Craig had had on his groin. "I think it's, errr, worth considering," John Paul said nervously. "But at the same time we don't want to be rushing into anything without fully investigating all of the possibilities and exposing any drawbacks that haven't been considered yet."

John Paul held his breath as he waited for his words to be revealed as utter nonsense.

"That's exactly what I was saying," a dark haired man from the other side of the table said, causing nods and sounds of agreement from most of John Paul's colleagues.

John Paul let out his breath in a relieved sigh and prayed that the meeting would soon be over because, even as he sat and tried to listen to what was being said, his mind was already turning to the ways he could make it up to Craig for spoiling their weekend plans.

-

Smoothing out the paper Craig read the letter again. Very few words were written on the plain white notepaper. The writing was neat and stylised, simple block capitals that were pressed firmly onto the paper's surface, as if the author didn't want to be identified by their handwriting. And the lack of a name at the end reinforced that obvious desire for anonymity.

Craig let his fingers trace the words, slowly repeating them over and over in his mind in an attempt to understand them. An attempt that failed completely because if he understood them, or worse if he believed them… Craig shook his head. It was nonsense, surely someone's sick idea of a joke and the sooner he put it behind him the better.

Taking one last look at the letter in his hands Craig made a decision and slowly tore paper into strips, and then those strips into smaller and smaller pieces until the remnants were the size of tiny pieces of confetti that Craig deposited in the kitchen bin with a vow never to think of it again. Never.

With a sigh he fell back into the armchair and once again resumed his channel surfing, hoping that the audio-visual distraction would make the time pass faster and bring John Paul back home.

Glancing towards the window Craig grimaced. The daylight had all but faded from the sky, pulling with it the days colours and leaving the world several muted shades of greys and blues. Half of the weekend was almost gone and Craig had spent it on his own brooding. He silently prayed for John Paul to get home soon whilst, at the same time, pointedly not thinking about the torn up letter that was lying in shreds in the other room.

* * *

"Honey I'm home!" John Paul called out playfully as he closed the front door, shutting the rest of the world outside with no intentions of even thinking about anything other than Craig until at least Monday.

Craig couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face but he kept his attention firmly fixed on the TV as John Paul entered the room, feigning interest in a film that he couldn't have so much as named.

"Sorry I'm late," John Paul said as he dropped his jacket on the back of the sofa and bent down next to the armchair to kiss Craig's cheek.

"Hmm," Craig mumbled without looking up.

"Good film?" John Paul asked as he crouched beside the chair and ran his fingers lightly through Craig's hair. Craig had worn his hair cut short when John Paul had first known him as a boy, but when they met again years later it had been left to grow until it curled softly against his collar, and John Paul had discovered that he much preferred it that way. A few months earlier Craig had announced his intentions of getting it cut short again but the blonde man had quickly dissuaded him from the idea.

"Mmm," Craig mumbled again in response to John Paul's question.

"You're still angry at me for spoiling the weekend aren't you?"

"No…"

"You sure?"

John Paul stroked Craig's hair gently, twisting its ends around his fingers as he spoke before letting the soft locks fall back against Craig's neck.

"Cause you know I didn't have a choice… what with this proposed take over and everything… anyone who doesn't look committed to the Company is likely to be the first out…"

"Yeah I know," Craig replied with a half smile as John Paul continued to tease his hair gently.

"But it didn't stop me thinking about you," John Paul said as he leant forward so that the heat of his breath tickled against Craig's cheek.

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking about how I could make it up to you for being out all day…"

"And?"

"Well first I thought I could run you a big deep bubble bath…"

"Right?"

"And then…"

Brushing Craig's hair back from his neck John Paul kissed the exposed skin lightly, his tongue tickling over the bare flesh before biting it in a way that was guaranteed to make Craig moan and shiver with pleasure.

"And then what?" Craig asked in a slightly shaky voice as the pressure of John Paul's kisses and bites against his neck intensified.

"Oh I thought that was obvious," John Paul breathed into Craig's ear, "then I thought maybe you'd like to fuck me in it?"

Craig closed his eyes and moaned as John Paul's teeth sank deeply into his flesh, his toes curled into the carpet and all thoughts left his mind apart from the one that saw John Paul naked and soapy in the bathtub.

"Get that bath run…" Craig groaned breathlessly. "Now!"

* * *

Craig lay back in the hot water and sighed contentedly. Soft fragrant bubbles floated on the surface of the water, hiding all but the top of his chest from view. One arm hung over the side of the bathtub, a glass of chilled wine clutched in his hand, which he sipped from as he watched John Paul slowly peeling away his work clothes.

Loosening his tie John Paul pulled it over his head and let it drop to the floor, kicking off his shoes.

With a darkly lustful smile he slowly, very slowly, slipped open the buttons of his crisp white shirt, exposing his bare chest beneath inch by inch as Craig watched silently, his tongue licking over his lips in a subconscious act as more of John Paul's naked flesh was revealed.

With all the buttons unfastened John Paul eased the shirt from his shoulders and let it tumble to his feet. He smiled as he brushed his palms over his chest, his nipples hardening at the touch but also at the look of desire in Craig's rich brown eyes. They glistened like melted chocolate as they poured over every inch of John Paul's milky torso.

John Paul's belt buckle jangled as he slipped it open and pulling it from his trousers, quickly threw it down to join his shirt on the bathroom floor.

Craig sipped at his wine again, the cold liquid trickling pleasantly down his throat in stark contrast to the heat of his bath, as he watched John Paul's fingers slip open the button at the top of his trousers, lower the zip, and then ease the black fabric down over his hips.

John Paul's thumbs caught in the waist band of his boxers and they joined in the downward progression of his trousers, revealing, inch by tantalising inch, the sight of his now fully engorged cock, which was pulled back from John Paul's body by the motion of his clothing before slapping firmly up against his belly.

Kicking the remainder of his clothing away stood motionless for a moment in his full naked glory, enjoying the feeling of Craig's eyes devouring his body. Turning his back on the bathtub John Paul bent over to grab a second wine glass from where he had placed it on the floor and filled it with the golden liquid. He paused for a moment, his buttocks raised high for Craig's inspection while his cock and balls hung low and heavy between his thighs, making the older man's teeth rattle against his glass as he watched.

With a satisfied smile John Paul righted himself and, taking a sip of wine, he stepped into the hot soapy water.

John Paul winced slightly as the hot water quickly turned his pale skin pink, Craig always preferred his bath water far hotter that John Paul liked but rather than reach for the cold tap as he normally would John Paul simply took a moment for his body to adjust to the temperature as he lowered himself into the water and finally sat down in the tub between Craig's outstretched legs, his back coming to rest against Craig's firm chest.

The men sat in a comfortable silence for a while, sipping at their wine as the hot water and bubbles slapped around their bodies with every slight movement. John Paul could feel Craig's thick cock pressed into his back and he wriggled against it, making the older man sigh with a gentle pleasure.

"So is the first part of me making this up to you going OK?" John Paul asked, tilting his head back and turning his face so that he could look into Craig's dark eyes.

"It's alright," Craig replied with a grin. Leaning his face forward he pressed his mouth to John Paul's lips. The younger man's face was damp with the steam from the bath as Craig kissed him hard, their lips parting and tongues gravitating towards each other of their own accord, sharing the sweet taste of wine and of each other.

"I'm sure there was more to it though," Craig breathed as John Paul pulled back from his kiss.

"Was there?" John Paul teased, taking Craig's wine glass from his hand and placing them both down on the floor. "Can't say I remember…"

John Paul lay back against Craig's chest with a small giggle, a giggle that became a gasp as Craig's hands reached around his body, one massaging soap into his chest while the other wrapped around the length of his cock beneath the bubbles, easing his foreskin back so that its sensitive tip was exposed to the hot water.

"This ringing any bells?" Craig asked as he nibbled gently at John Paul's moist neck, his grip around the man's cock tightening as his hand moved slowly up and down, a sensation heightened by the motion of the water as it moved.

"Maybe…" John Paul gasped. He had never known how Craig's touch could reduce him to a state of complete desire within seconds, but it wasn't something that he ever wanted to stop because nothing made him feel quite so alive as being touched by Craig, as being loved by him.

Reaching one hand behind him John Paul stroked Craig's cock gently, rocking himself back slightly until its length became nestled between his soft buttocks. Craig moaned quietly as John Paul raised and then lowered himself several times, the friction of his buttocks against Craig's cock making the man tremble with passion and desire, a desire that intensified as the head of his cock brushed past John Paul's tight opening for a second, teasing him with promises of how good it would feel to be inside.

"I'm pretty sure," Craig breathed into John Paul's ear, "That it had something to do with me giving you a good hard fucking…"

"Did it?" John Paul gulped as Craig thrust his hips forward slightly making the head of his cock stab at his tight hole.

"Yeah it was definitely that," Craig continued with a throaty laugh.

"Then maybe you should… oh fuck!" John Paul's words were lost in a growl as Craig's thumb suddenly penetrated him, twisting and turning as it went deeper, stretching and pleasuring him and making him want more.

"Lean forward," Craig instructed.

With a shuffle and sloshing of water, some of which went over the edge of the tub and refilled the wine glasses, John Paul moved onto his knees and rested his hands against the rim of the bath.

Craig stroked his hands over John Paul's buttocks, which glistened with the soapy water that clung to the milky flesh, his fingers slipping between to push inside that tight opening once more.

Both men groaned as first one, then two, of Craig's fingers delved deeply into John Paul's hot body, making them both tremble with anticipation.

Unable to wait another second Craig quickly directed his cock towards John Paul's twitching hole and pushed forward. He savoured the initial resistance of the tight ring of muscle that quickly relented to his presence and allowed him entrance to the heat of John Paul's tight flesh.

"Oh fuck!" Craig moaned as John Paul's body devoured him inch by delicious inch until his cock was fully engulfed by a heat far more intense than that of the bath water.

"Oh god Craig," John Paul panted as Craig began a slowly deliberate thrusting inside him, pulling his cock out almost to the tip before pushing slowly back inside.

"You feel so good," Craig murmured, gripping John Paul's hips tightly, the speed of his thrusts increasing in time with his growing desire.

"Fuck Craig yes…" John Paul moaned as the thickness of Craig's hard cock plunged deep inside him over and over again, grazing at his prostate in a way that made his whole body tremble and the pressure in his balls increase substantially.

Lifting one hand from the edge of the bath John Paul took a firm hold of his throbbing cock and stroked it in time with the thrust of Craig's cock inside him.

The water sloshed around the men as their pants and moans mingled with the steam to fill the room completely.

Lowering his mouth to John Paul's neck and wrapping both arms around his middle Craig bit down hard against the soft white skin and held the man close to his body as he thrust his hips harder and faster.

John Paul moaned as Craig's teeth sank into his flesh and his hard cock pounded deep inside him. Both men knew that their pleasure wouldn't last much longer and they were more than willing to give themselves over to it completely.

"Fuck me hard Craig," John Paul snarled, his hand stroking his own cock faster and faster, "Fuck me harder… I want to feel you come inside me…"

"Oh Christ John Paul…" Craig gasped as his cock throbbed heavily and threatened, or was that promised, total release at any second.

Craig's whole body shook as his climax gripped him, his cock shooting load after load of hot desire deep inside John Paul's hungry body.

John Paul cried out loudly as he reached his own pleasure point only seconds after Craig, his cock convulsing as his satisfaction poured from him and his body contracting around Craig's cock, milking it of every last drop of lust.

The men were frozen in an erotic tableau for a moment as their racing hearts slowed and their breathing returned to normal.

"Oh my god," Craig panted as he collapsed back into the cooling bathwater.

Falling back against Craig's body John Paul reached over the edge of the tub to retrieve their drinks and laughed as he saw the bubbly liquid that now filled their wine glasses.

"I think we need fresh wine," he said with a laugh as he hauled himself out of the water and wrapped a large white towel around his body.

"Let's have it in the bedroom," Craig suggested, "this water's getting cold now anyway."

Ten minutes later the two lovers were curled up in the comfort of their bed, exchanging soft kisses between sips of wine.

"So am I forgiven for today?" John Paul asked.

"I guess so…"

"I am sorry that work is such a pain right now you know…"

"I know…"

"Good… Oh and Craig…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really sorry but it looks like I'm going to have to work late again on Tuesday, I don't want to but you know how it is."

John Paul kissed the top of Craig head softly. He hated being away from the man he loved so much but right now there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

"That's OK," Craig replied with a sigh.

And he didn't for one second let his mind wander back to the letter that was still sitting in the kitchen bin. Not for one second.


	2. Chapter 2

Craig bit deeply into his toast. The sharp tang of lime marmalade awakening his senses far more than the half drunk mug of coffee had so far managed.

The later in the year it got the more Craig hated mornings. There was something unnatural about forcing himself to climb out of a warm bed while it was still dark outside and the sound of rain was battering against the window. There was something even more unnatural about having to drag himself away from John Paul's side, knowing that the day would pass without Craig being able to see or touch him again until almost six that evening.

John Paul giggled as Craig chewed thoughtfully on his breakfast, unaware of the large smear of sticky marmalade that had found its way onto his cheek.

"Messy," John Paul teased as he leaned over to wipe the sweet mess from his boyfriend's face, only to hesitate and, at the last second, close the gap between them a little further so that he could lap up the marmalade with his tongue.

Craig smiled as John Paul's tongue swept from the corner of his mouth to his cheek, the heat bathing his skin as it was cleansed.

John Paul pulled the sweetness of the preserve into his mouth, his tongue still tingling from the roughness of Craig's unshaven face.

"You're such a scruff," John Paul teased, his mouth still only a fraction of an inch from Craig's skin as he spoke.

"You love me like this," Craig replied with a grin.

"It scratches," John Paul laughed, his lips pressing against Craig's stubbled cheek as if to illustrate the point.

"Yeah… that's what you like about it…"

John Paul kissed Craig's cheek harder, nuzzling at the rough bristles as they scratched over his skin. He couldn't deny that there was something about Craig's preference for a light coating of stubble that he found incredibly erotic. He didn't know if it was the slightly enigmatic look that it gave his already sexy lover, or possibly the rough manly feeling as it scratched his face when they kissed, or maybe it was the way it felt as it brushed over his thighs as Craig…

John Paul swallowed hard as the image of Craig's face between his legs filled his mind, every inch of his body desperate to experience the feeling of that stubble against his soft skin again.

Grabbing Craig's face in both hands John Paul kissed him hard. Their mouths pressing together furiously as their tongues sort each other out with earnest.

Breathless and flushed John Paul forced himself to break the kiss and, stealing a glance at his watch he grimaced. He wanted nothing more than to drag Craig back to their bedroom and fully enjoy the feeling of his lover's stubble against his skin but reality had other demands on his time.

"I've gotta go," he said pitifully.

"Another five minutes," Craig pleaded, moving forward to try and claim another kiss. He hated saying goodbye to John Paul in the mornings, even more than usual lately.

"I can't," John Paul replied with a sorrowful smile, "I'm gonna be late…"

Craig pouted and let out a sigh. "Well go on then… off to work with you… see you later…"

"And don't forget I'm working back tonight…"

"AGAIN? That's the fourth time in the last two weeks," Craig complained. As if ruining their trip a couple of weeks earlier hadn't been bad enough now John Paul's work was stealing their evenings as well.

"I know… I'm sorry… but it won't be for much longer. I promise!"

Brushing another quick kiss to Craig's cheek John Paul raced from the kitchen.

"See you later," he called from the hallway as he put on his coat. "Love you."

"You too," Craig called back as he heard the front door opening.

"Craig… the post's here… bye…"

There was the sound of the post being slapped down on the hall table, followed by the closing of the front door. And then silence.

Craig sat at the table and stared at his half eaten toast, his appetite for it completely gone.

The post had arrived.

The post. Usually a non-event that required little more than sifting through the bills and throwing away the junk.

The post. Something that now filled the dark haired man with a sense of foreboding.

Dragging himself to his feet as if hoisting lead weights Craig plodded into the hallway and scooped up the envelopes that John Paul had thrown down on the table.

Flicking through them Craig could recognise the familiar energy and telephone bills that would have already been taken care of by direct debit and needed no more attention than to be filed away.

And then he saw it. Nestled in the middle of the innocuous post was a simple white envelope, much like countless others that were posted through doors every day. A simple white envelope with Craig's name and address printed neatly in its centre.

A simple white envelope that was virtually identical to the five others he had already received. A simple white envelope that made him feel physically sick.

Sitting back at the kitchen table Craig held the envelope in his hands, turning it over and over in some vain attempt to decipher its contents without actually having to read them.

Trying to ignore the shaking in his hands Craig slowly tore open the envelope, the ripping of the paper reverberated loudly in his ears screaming for him to stop, to throw it away unread. To pay it no heed.

Craig slipped the letter from its covering and, unfolding the single sheet of paper, he read its contents.

It was the same block capital writing that made his blood run cold carrying almost the same message as all the previous letters.

"Is John Paul working late again this week? Are you not wondering who he's fucking yet?"

Closing his eyes Craig could still see the words illuminated in the darkness of his mind, glowing and taunting him.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. But if Craig was so sure that the letters were nothing but poisonous lies why had he not mentioned them to John Paul yet? Why were three of the previous four stuffed in the back of his sock drawer, the first letter being the only one he had managed to destroy?

Craig sighed as he ran his hands over his face, a sudden feeling of weariness gripping him. He needed John Paul. He needed John Paul to tell him that everything was fine and that there was no one else. But what if there was?

The words of the other letters flitted through Craig's mind in a cascade of pain and fear, filling his heart with "what ifs" until he was gripped with panic.

"John Paul is cheating on you."

"Do you know who your boyfriend is screwing tonight?"

"He's making you look like an idiot. John Paul is fucking around behind your back."

"If he loved you would John Paul be fucking that other man?"

* * *

Craig sat in the semi darkness of the living room, the only illumination coming from a single lamp above the dormant television.

He had barely moved for the last half hour but instead he sat in silence, his eyes fixed on the large round clock above the mantle, watching every passing minute. Every passing second. Each minute felt like an hour and as one moved into the next Craig's temper grew shorter.

It was already nine-thirty, even for John Paul this "working late" was going well past his usual hours.

After another ten minutes Craig heard the sound of the front door followed by the footsteps of the man he loved approaching the room.

Craig straightened in his seat and took a few deep breaths as John Paul entered the room.

"Hi sweetheart," John Paul said brightly as he dropped his jacket on the back of the sofa, "Sorry I'm so late, things just got away from us."

"I bet," Craig said under his breath.

"What was that?" John Paul asked as he ran his hand lightly over Craig's hair and leant forward to kiss the man on the cheek.

"Have you been drinking?" Craig asked, his head snapping round to face John Paul as the unmistakable aroma of lager filled his nostrils.

"Well we stopped for one on the way home…" John Paul began.

"Just one? Smells like more than that to me…"

"OK maybe two…"

"Rather than coming straight home?"

"It was a hard day, we needed to unwind…"

"You couldn't unwind with me?"

"Craig what is this… what's wrong?" John Paul's brow furrowed in concern and he stroked his hand gently over Craig's cheek, a gesture that was quickly batted away. "Please Craig, tell me what's going on…"

"Funny," Craig spat, "I thought that would be MY line."

"Your line?"

"Yeah… as in what the fuck's going on John Paul?"

"I don't know what you're talking about… Craig please…" Once again John Paul tried to touch Craig's cheeks but his hand was pushed away as Craig got to his feet and his dark brown eyes flashed angrily as they looked deep into John Paul's soft blue depths.

"Don't," Craig said quietly as John Paul touched his arm softly.

"Craig?"

"Who is he?"

"Who… who is who?"

"The new guy you're fucking…"

"The… what… who… I don't know…" John Paul shook his head in confusion. Craig couldn't have just said that, could he? Why would he say such a thing? Why would he think such a thing? "Craig what are you on about?"

"Don't lie to me," Craig said between gritted teeth as his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. "I saw you…"

"Saw me when? Doing what?"

Closing his eyes Craig turned his back on John Paul. He couldn't look at him. He couldn't bare to look at him.

"I came to meet you out of work," Craig said quietly, "But you'd already gone… gone to the pub I was told so I thought I'd join you there…"

"I never saw you…"

"You wouldn't… you were too busy with him…"

"Who? Craig who? I'm not… there isn't…"

"I mean it's not like I wasn't warned," Craig said, almost to himself.

"Warned? I don't know what you're talking about, Craig you're talking in riddles, please, I don't understand…"

"Read for yourself," Craig said, pulling the letters from his pocket as he spun around to face John Paul and slammed them forcefully into the man's chest before pushing past him and almost running from the room.

John Paul's eyes grew wider as he read the accusations that had been levelled at him. Accusations that Craig had believed. Why had Craig believed them?

Leaning against the bathroom door Craig's chest heaved, his breathing coming in sharp gasps as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

He had been in high spirits earlier that evening as he formulated the plans to surprise John Paul by meeting him from work. And even when he discovered that the blonde man had gone to the pub rather than heading straight home he hadn't been annoyed but had simply changed his plans and gone to join him. Craig had ignored the little voice that had whispered in his ears, suggesting that he only wanted to meet John Paul that night to prove to himself that the man WAS working late, and had all but convinced himself that he didn't believe the lies he had been told.

Or at least he had convinced himself until the moment he walked into the pub and saw for himself.

John Paul had been stood in one corner, a lager bottle in one hand while his other rested on the shoulder of his companion. A rather attractive fair haired man who was stroking John Paul's arm affectionately as they laughed together, their faces only inches apart, on the verge of a kiss. A kiss that Craig hadn't been able to stay and watch, instead he had raced back to the house he shared with the man he thought he knew and pulled out the letters from their hiding place to confront John Paul with when he got home. If he got home.

"Craig it's all lies," John Paul called through the bathroom door. "These letters… what you've read… it's not true… none of it's true…"

"I saw you," Craig called back.

"I don't know what you saw… what you think you saw… Craig please… I haven't, I wouldn't…"

The bathroom door was flung open giving John Paul no time to react before Craig's fist connected with his jaw, sending the blonde man staggering backwards.

"Get out," Craig screamed, his eyes flashing as if possessed.

"Craig please…"

"Get out." Craig's voice turned into a shriek and his body trembled with rage.

"Craig…"

"If you don't get the fuck out of here right now I will kill you."

John Paul hesitated, his hand pressed against his jaw as the metallic tang of blood filled his mouth. He knew Craig well enough to know that there would be no reasoning with him until he had calmed down.

"I'm coming back," John Paul said quietly as he turned to leave.

"Don't bother."

* * *

John Paul didn't have a destination in mind when he closed the door. All he knew was that he needed to put some distance between himself and Craig, the look in Craig's eyes had told him that. The dark anger that had burned inside those chocolate pools had been quite unlike any that John Paul had witnessed before and he knew that the dark haired man was in no frame of mind to be reasoned with. He needed time to cool down, to realise what he was saying and to hopefully realise his mistake.

John Paul shivered in the cool night air. He had left in such a rush that he hadn't even grabbed his jacket and the evening chill bit through the cotton of his shirt.

Within a few minutes John Paul was pushing open the heavy wooden door that he had walked through countless times before. The door to the club in which he was still allowed to indulge his DJ fantasies. The door to the club where he had seen Craig again for the first time in years.

John Paul breathed deeply, the familiar odour of the club filling his nostrils. A strange mixture of beer and sweat, countless aftershaves and perfumes, a hint of desperation and desire, a multitude of fragrances that came together to define the nightclub that he knew so well.

Glancing around the room John Paul was relived to see that the patrons were few in number, just a scattering of students who had no lectures in the morning. The Tuesday night DJ was slumped against the wall with a bottle in one hand and an attractive blonde in the other, obviously paying no attention to the music that John Paul assumed was being provided by a pre-recorded compilation of tracks that no one was listening to anyway.

Walking over to the bar John Paul lowered himself onto a stool and sighed. He couldn't understand what had happened and until he could understand he had no idea how to make things right.

"We don't normally see you in here in the week."

John Paul looked up at the man addressing him and offered a half-hearted smile as acknowledgement.

Damien was in his late thirties and had been the manager of the club for the past three years. Despite having little interest in the type of music his club favoured Damien was skilful enough in promotion to have been able to dramatically turn around its flagging profits and secure the employment of its entire staff whilst also taking on a new, part-time and very successful DJ.

Running one hand over his short-cropped light brown hair Damien grimaced as he noticed the new bruise that was beginning to form at the edge of John Paul's jaw.

"What happened?" he asked with genuine concern for his favourite, and if truth was told most popular, disc jockey.

John Paul's fingers reached up to touch his face wincing at the sharp pain as he touched the place where all too recently Craig's fist had connected.

"Long story," John Paul said with a shrug.

"Want to talk about it?" Damien asked kindly as he pulled up a stool next to John Paul and beckoned over the barman.

"Whiskey," John Paul said as the young fair haired man approached. "Damn," John Paul said in annoyance as he reached for his wallet only to remember it was still in the pocket of his jacket that he had left hanging over the back of the sofa, a quick look through his pockets revealing little more than some spare change and his keys.

"On me," Damien said, "Give him a double… it looks like he needs it…"

"Thanks," John Paul replied with gratitude as the small glass was placed before him. John Paul savoured the familiar burn as the golden liquid trickled down his throat. A few more of those and he might find some peace, or at least a touch of oblivion, but he knew one thing he wouldn't find would be answers. Only one person held those, the person who had been sending Craig letters for god knew how long.

"So? Wanna tell me?" Damien asked with an encouraging smile.

"Not sure," John Paul admitted.

"Was it Craig?"

"It's not what you think…"

"How d'you know what I think?"

"We had a fight…"

"Well I didn't think it was a love bite!"

John Paul laughed at the absurdity of Damien's words, the absurdity of the situation. What was he doing sat in a nightclub when he should be at home sorting things out with Craig?

"He thinks I'm cheating on him…" John Paul continued.

"And are you…"

"NO! No I'm not… I've never… I wouldn't…"

"Alright calm down, I was only asking…"

"Sorry," John Paul said with an apologetic shrug. "I just… I don't know how he could believe it so easily… after all this time… after everything we've been through how could he believe that I would do that to him? Maybe what we've got isn't what I thought it was…"

"So why does he think it?"

"Cause someone told him… well no, not told him… at least that I could have respected, if they'd had the bottle to actually make themselves known… but this? Letters… nasty little letters telling Craig I've been up to god knows what… And then he sees me in the pub after work and jumps to all sorts of conclusions… oh shit I was talking to Colin…"

"Colin? Oh the guy who whispers all the time?"

"Exactly," John Paul said with a sigh. "No wonder Craig thought I was getting close… that bloke talks so low you have to lean in just to hear what he's saying! But if it hadn't been for those damn letters… Who would do that Damien? What kind of sad bastard would get their kicks that way? Christ who hates me that much that they'd want to split me and Craig up like this…"

"Oh!" Damien's eyes widened for a moment as a thought struck him suddenly.

"Oh? Oh what?"

"It's just… I mean I never thought… but maybe… I dunno I could be wrong but…"

"What? Damien what… tell me?"

* * *

Craig paced the living room. How dare John Paul walk out like that? How dare he leave just because… well just because Craig told him to.

Craig knew he was being irrational but he couldn't help it. He felt irrational.

He wanted John Paul there telling him it was all lies, that there was no truth in those letters. But when John Paul had been there doing just that Craig hadn't believed him, or maybe it was that he couldn't believe him.

Stomping into the kitchen Craig looked at the letters that he had laid out on the table. Each word taunting him with John Paul's betrayal, each one telling Craig that he wasn't enough.

But wasn't that always the way in the end? Whatever he had tried to be Craig was always left with a feeling of inadequacy. Family, friends, lovers, they all left him in the end, or he left them, either way he would end up alone.

Even before the letters, before he had any reason to doubt, Craig had still wondered when things with John Paul would end. There wasn't ever anything so good that Craig Dean couldn't spoil it.

With a growl of frustration Craig swiped the letters onto the floor before picking up a coffee cup and launching it at the wall opposite, watching the fragments of porcelain shatter and rain down to the floor.

He could just stand around and wait for things to come to an end.

* * *

"Damien tell me," John Paul insisted as the older man chewed thoughtfully on his lip.

"Look it might be nothing…" Damien began.

"Just tell me…"

"I mean I never thought anything of it at the time… and I never said cause… well there didn't seem any point…"

"Damien!" John Paul's patience was starting to wear thin as his friend seemed determined to spin out his information indefinitely. "Just tell me…"

"Last week," Damien explained, "When I was arriving for work…"

"Yeah?"

"I saw Simon… he was just hanging around outside and when he saw me he walked off…"

"Simon?"

John Paul paused. Simon. The man he had once anticipated spending his life with until Craig had returned to remind him where his heart really belonged. Simon. The man he had cheated on and hurt and let walk away without a second thought. John Paul felt a flush of guilt as he realised that he hadn't so much as thought of the man who was once such an integral part of his life since Craig had returned.

"Simon…" John Paul repeated in a whisper. A few years ago John Paul would have laughed off the idea that the grey-eyed man would be capable of such malice, but then a few years ago John Paul would have laughed at the thought that he would have found love with Craig again.

"Oh my god it was Simon…" The certain realisation struck John Paul as he recalled the writing on the anonymous letters. It had seemed vaguely familiar but John Paul hadn't really had the time to study it, but now he knew with certainty. The way his name had been printed, exactly the way it had seen it written before on a valentine's card from a "secret admirer" that Simon had once sent as a joke.

"I can't believe he would do that," John Paul said. He knew he had hurt the man by choosing Craig over him, but he didn't realise just how much, he didn't realise his one time lover would hold on to that hurt for so long before seeking some form of revenge. "I've gotta go and tell Craig… Damien thank you… I could kiss you!"

Damien laughed. "Probably not a good idea eh? You never know who might be watching!"

* * *

"Craig!" John Paul called the second he pushed open the front door. "Craig I know who sent them… Craig where are you?"

The living room was empty.

Walking into the kitchen John Paul saw the evidence of Craig frustration, the shattered cup and the scattered letters. Reaching down to pick up one of the notes John Paul confirmed in his mind the author of the poison. Where was Craig? He needed to tell him.

Racing into the bedroom John Paul stopped dead. Several drawers were pulled open and items of clothing hung from them as hands had obviously reached in and grabbed what they could.

"Craig no," John Paul gasped as his knees buckled and he fell onto the bed. "We promised… no more running away… we agreed… no more being apart…"

* * *

Craig raised his hand nervously, hesitating for a second before taking a deep breath and knocking on the door. It was a familiar front door but one he hadn't seen in many years. Just as he hadn't seen the occupants of the small house since that day three years earlier.

The door seemed to open slowly and then she was stood there. Her eyes wide with shock at the sight of the man on her doorstep.

She had hardly changed Craig thought, maybe a little older looking, but still the same blonde haired woman that he had always loved.

The sharp slap across his face came as no surprise. Craig had been expecting it and he knew he deserved it. Being pulled into her arms came as no surprise either. Whatever else happened Craig knew she would always love him.

"Craig…" The blonde woman gasped as she held him tightly, not quite daring to believe he was really there.

"Alright mum?"

Releasing her hold Frankie Osborne stepped back to look at her youngest son.

"Where the hell have you been?" She asked angrily, consumed with the urge to slap him again, or to hold him again. "Three years Craig… no one has heard from you in three years! You walk out on your wife and disappear… you'd better have a bloody good explanation…"

Craig shrugged. "Do I at least get to come inside first?"

* * *

With a sigh John Paul put the telephone receiver back in its cradle. For the last half hour he had been calling anyone and everyone he could think of in the hope that someone had heard from Craig, but with every negative response he felt his hopes failing.

In a last vain attempt to track the dark haired man John Paul dialled a number he had had no cause to call for many years.

"Hello. The Dog in the Pond…"

The voice was unfamiliar and John Paul licked his lips nervously. He could hear the background sounds of empty glasses and hollow footsteps. Glancing at the clock John Paul realised that, at just past midnight, the bar was probably closed for the evening.

"Yeah err… sorry for calling so late…" John Paul stammered, "I was looking for Frankie…"

"Frankie?" The young male voice replied in a tone that sapped away the last of John Paul's hope.

"Yeah Frankie Osborne, or Jack Osborne… they own the place… well, they did…" John Paul shook his head. It had been foolish to assume that the ownership of The Dog in the Pond was still in the hands of the Osborne's after so many years but it had been the last link to Craig he had been able to think of. Craig had so rarely mentioned his family that John Paul realised he didn't know anything of their lives since the day he himself had left Hollyoaks village far behind.

There was a muffled sound as the receiver on the other end was covered with a hand for a moment before the barman's voice spoke again.

"Right… yeah," he said, "They sold up a few years ago mate… decided to retire and move…"

"I don't suppose you know where to?"

* * *

Craig stood in the unfamiliar living room, nervously waiting as Frankie did what she always did when visitors called, even if that visitor was a son she hadn't seen for years. She put the kettle on.

Craig had only been to the house two, maybe three times, since Frankie and Jack had moved in and, although it had only been a few years ago, to Craig it felt like a lifetime had passed and he wasn't entirely sure that he had made the right decision in going there.

Standing by the mantle Craig let his eyes wander over the selection of photographs that were laid out for all to see. Snapshots of moments long gone, memories of happy times and a permanent reminder of the life that Craig had fled. Nestled at the back of the selection of silver and wooden frames stood one picture that caught Craig's eye and, without thinking, he reached out and picked it up.

She looked so beautiful that day. Her rich ebony hair glistened in the early autumn sunlight as it curled gently onto her shoulders; and her eyes, so dark they were almost black, seemed to sparkle with life and love as they smiled into the camera.

If only she had known that day how quickly things would change her smile would not have been so bright.

Craig had loved her, cared for her, wanted to make her happy, but even that day as he stood before their friends and family he had known it wasn't enough. Even as he had vowed to love her for the rest of his life he had known he was lying. Craig knew there was only one person he could ever truly make that promise to.

Running his fingertips lightly over the polished glass that housed his wedding photograph Craig realised, possibly for the first time, how completely opposite to John Paul the woman he married really was. Everything about her, her looks, her manner, her interests, it was as if Craig had sought out the total antithesis of the person he really loved in some misguided attempt to convince himself that John Paul was out of his life and more importantly out of his heart.

"Why did you do it Craig?"

Craig turned around as Frankie walked back into the room and placed two mugs on the small coffee table before sitting on the sofa and looking up as her youngest son with dismay.

"Why just leave the poor girl like that?"

"I don't know," Craig said with a sad sigh as he took a seat beside his mother and reached for the warmth of the hot drink. "It wasn't working… I couldn't think… I just had to… had to get away…"

"But to go without a word, do you know what that did to her? To all of us? Craig we didn't know if you were alive or dead… you just upped and left without a word… do you know how cruel that is?"

Craig rested his eyes on the surface of his drink. Three years ago he'd run away. A few hours ago he'd done the same. Both actions had seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

"Is she OK?"

"Do you care?"

"Mum… please…"

"You should go and see her…"

"Yeah I… I will… in the morning… only… I can stay here tonight can't I?"

Frankie smiled, a deep genuine smile that radiated from deep within as she pulled her son into her arms and kissed the top of his head. He might be a grown man but he would always be her baby boy.

"I've missed you Craig," she breathed into his hair, "Of course you can stay."

* * *

John Paul drained his mug of tea and grabbed his keys. It had taken over twenty minutes of clever talking, pleading and ultimately begging, before the owners of The Dog had relented and given him the address of the Osborne's new house. He had been tempted to set off immediately but common sense told him that they were unlikely to welcome his arrival in the early hours of the morning, especially if it turned out that Craig wasn't even there. Instead John Paul had forced himself to go to bed and had spent a long restless and lonely night waiting for the first rays of daylight to begin his journey.

Pulling the front door closed behind him John Paul stopped in his tracks.

Standing on the street, with one hand resting on the roof of John Paul's car, was a very familiar figure.

His hair was shorter than John Paul remembered, almost cropped, giving the man a cold, harsh appearance and his frame seemed slighter, but the most startling change was the cold look that filled Simon's grey eyes. John Paul found it hard to believe that those same eyes had once looked at him with love.

John Paul felt anger bubbling through him, his fists clenching at his sides and his teeth grinding together as he walked slowly towards his one time lover, the man who had once held him with gentleness, the man who had recently driven Craig away with his lies.

"What are you doing here?" John Paul snarled between gritted teeth, valiantly fighting the urge to wipe the smug grin from Simon's face with his fist.

"Anyone would think you're not happy to see me," Simon said, his voice heavily laced with sarcasm.

"What do you want?"

"What's the matter John Paul? Problems in paradise?" Simon laughed, a sharp soulless sound that increased John Paul's desire for physical violence exponentially.

But instead John Paul shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets as he looked into Simon's empty expression. John Paul couldn't help but wonder if he had put that look there, if his actions had changed Simon from the gentle man he had once know to… to someone who would seemingly ruin his life for, for what? For kicks? For pleasure? There didn't seem to be any pleasure or satisfaction in Simon's twisted smile.

"Why?" John Paul asked quietly. "Simon why...?"

"Because I could," Simon replied with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

"But… why? Why would you even want to?"

"I would have loved you forever John Paul," Simon said, his voice flat and emotionless, "I would never have betrayed you. But that wasn't enough was it? It was always him… even before he came back it was still him wasn't it? He was always the one you wanted and I was… what? What was I John Paul… someone to pass the time with?"

"No…" John Paul objected, but even as the word left his lips he knew that at least some of Simon's accusation was true. He had loved the man once, but it was never the love he felt for Craig. Nothing and no one had ever been able to compare to his feelings for the brown-eyed man that owned his heart and soul.

"I would have done anything for you," Simon continued, a tang of bitterness coating his words, "Anything… but you chose HIM… you walked away from me and straight to him and why? Because he loves you? What kind of love is it that he would believe you're cheating on him because he gets a few letters? That's what you chose John Paul? THAT?"

"You don't know him… you've got no idea what we have…"

"So where is he now?"

John Paul averted his eyes. He couldn't bare the look of victory that flashed over Simon's face, nor the feelings of guilt that his selfish actions had caused such changes in the man he had once loved.

"Only I'm sure that was your oh so wonderful Craig I saw leaving with his bags packed last night…"

"You saw...?"

"Just a few letters and he takes off… is that really how little he loves you?"

"You don't know what you're talking about…"

"No?"

John Paul took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Simon was wrong, had to be wrong, it was all a misunderstanding and as soon as he saw Craig and explained…

"He loves me," John Paul said calmly as he opened his eyes and looked directly at Simon, gaining some small satisfaction as the man flinched and looked away. "Do you really hate me that much Simon… to do this?"

"I loved you," Simon replied bitterly.

"Then why?"

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me…"

Simon shook his head and started to walk away. "Call it revenge," he said simply. "No, not revenge… karma…"


	3. Chapter 3

For the second time in two days Craig's hand hovered near a once familiar door as he prepared himself to face another of the women in his life that he had walked out on without a backwards glance. He couldn't help but notice how his hand trembled for a moment before taking a deep steadying breath and rapping his knuckles against the highly polished wood.

Craig felt as if an eternity passed as he stood on the doorstep but even as the door began to open, he knew that he was totally unprepared for the reception he was going to get. He had only agreed to visit the woman he had once loved to placate his mother and, as the door finally opened, he was already regretting his decision.

"Craig."

She was still beautiful, there was no denying that, with dark sultry looks that gently echoed the French heritage of her father blended with her mother's English origins. Her long ebony hair, longer now than when Craig had last seen her, was an unruly cascade of curls that tumbled casually against her shoulders and framed her face perfectly, with an unruly fringe that hovered precariously above her eyes, threatening to obscure her vision at any moment. Her mouth, a mouth that Craig had once loved to kiss, a mouth that had once greeted him with a smile, was still the soft warm pink he remembered, but her lips were now pressed together as if she had just consumed something bitter.

Finally Craig's gaze came to rest on the woman's eyes. Still darkly mysterious they no longer held the warmth of love and desire, but rather a look of distaste at the sight of the man on her doorstep. The one thing her eyes never held, Craig realised, was a look of surprise.

"You knew I was coming?"

"Frankie called me…"

What astonished Craig was not that his mother had called the woman but rather that he hadn't anticipated that she would. Frankie had revelled in her youngest son's choice of a bride. The daughter of a high court judge, educated at The Royal Masonic School in London and raised in a background of privilege, the youngest child of Sir Tarquin d'Silas had been a catch the likes of which Frankie Osborne could only have dreamed.

The young woman had been welcomed into Craig's family in a way that no other lover ever had, cruelly mocking the rejection that his love for John Paul McQueen had once received and illustrating further where Frankie's prejudices lay.

Not only was her son proving he wasn't gay by marrying the young woman, but he had also proved what a great success he was by winning the heart of such a girl and securing himself a place in her salubrious family.

"I'm sorry I…"

The ring of skin upon skin cut off Craig's words as his wife slapped him forcefully across the face, the second of such slaps in as many days and just as equally deserved.

Lifting his hand to his stinging face Craig let his eyes fall to the ground.

"I never meant to hurt you," he began lamely.

"Craig you walked out on me," the dark haired woman spat, "one day you were here and then the next just gone… not a word, nothing Craig… I didn't know if you were dead or hurt or… or anything…"

"Sal I…"

"Don't…"

"Don't what?"

"Don't call me Sal… nobody calls me that anymore…"

"I always used to call you Sal…"

"Maybe that's why I hate it so much now."

"Salome," Craig said with a sigh, "Can I come inside, we need to talk and the doorstep isn't really the place for it."

"I don't see what we could have to talk about," Salome objected but at the same time she stepped back to allow Craig to enter.

* * *

John Paul looked out at the seemingly endless row of cars before him and grimaced.

He had stood on the roadside for some time after Simon had walked away, the ex-lovers words echoing in his head.

"Karma."

John Paul wasn't sure he even believed in such a concept but somehow the thought that he deserved having Craig leave him as some form of cosmic payback for the way he had treated Simon made a scratch of icy fingers claw the length of his spine.

Did he deserve to lose the man he loved as some kind of punishment for hurting the man who had loved him?

John Paul shook his head. He refused to believe such a thing. The world just didn't work like that. People fell in and out of love all of the time, and in doing so people got hurt. There was little choice in any of that, John Paul knew that more than most. Given the option he wasn't sure he would ever have chosen to fall in love with Craig Dean, or to have had those feelings back again the second he saw the man years later. But he had no choice. His heart loved whom it loved and no "karma" could change that.

With a sigh John Paul gripped the steering wheel tightly and, indicating a turn off to the right, he entered the outskirts of the small town that was now home to Frankie Osborne and, he silently prayed, the place where he would find Craig.

* * *

"You've redecorated," Craig observed as he entered the house that had once been his home, or at least the place he had called his home. But the truth was that he had never really felt "at home" within its walls. The cool minimalist décor had never been to Craig's taste and he had always been conscious of the fact that the house had been purchased by Salome's father as a wedding gift rather than one he had worked to buy himself. In fact it was a gift, which Craig later discovered, was made to Salome alone, as Craig's name had been left off the property deeds.

"You've been gone over three years Craig," Salome said coldly as she sat on the cream leather sofa and looked up at him with impassive eyes. "Did you really think I'd leave things just as you left them?"

"No," Craig replied as he perched uncomfortably on the edge of one of the chairs that made up the leather suite, "But then it's not like you ever consulted me when I was here either…"

"Is that why you're here Craig? To argue with me?"

"No… no of course not?"

"So why? After all this time, why are you back?"

Craig paused. Why had he fled to the town that was not only the home of his mother but also of his estranged wife? Why return to the one place on earth he had once been so desperate to leave? The truth was Craig realised, he had nowhere else to go, and no one else to go to.

"I'm… I just… I wanted to say I'm sorry… to explain…"

"Oh you're sorry, that's alright then." Salome's words were cold and cutting and it would have been reasonable to assume that her tone was a reflection of the situation, but the truth was that "cold" had always summed up Salome's nature. She was certainly beautiful, stunning even, but she was like a perfect ice-sculpture, cold to the very core and Craig had never really been able to thaw her.

When they first met Craig had been flattered that such a beautiful woman was interested in him and later, he had to confess, Salome's impressive background had tempted Craig with the advantages in life it could offer. But the biggest influence on Craig's decision to propose had been Frankie. Her enthusiasm over his relationship with Salome d'Silas had been the approval he had been seeking from her since the end of his teens and finally, as he slipped a gold band onto the finger of the woman he had convinced himself he loved above all others, he had been granted that approval.

"This wasn't all my fault," Craig said calmly.

"YOU walked out," Salome snapped, "YOU broke my heart…"

"Oh please," Craig snorted, he was uncertain that the dark haired woman even had a heart but if she had his leaving would never have been the thing to break it.

"I loved you Craig… and you left me…"

"Salome, isn't it time to stop this charade?"

"I don't know what you mean." Salome Dean flicked her hair back with a practiced flourish, an action that Craig had witnessed countless times before and an action that usually preceded a verbal assault, but not this time. Craig was sick of the lies and it was time for the truth to be told, for both their sakes.

"Salome you never loved me," Craig said simply.

"I…"

"Just like I never loved you. We were both looking for something that we thought the other could provide, you know that as much as I do… you wanted a way out of your father's house… and I wanted a life my mother could approve of…" Craig's eyes were sad as he spoke, their rich brown reflecting the regret that he felt so keenly over all the wrong choices he had made in his life.

"That's not true," Salome objected, "I married you because I loved you… I wanted to build a life with you…"

"So that's why you were sleeping around behind my back less than three months later is it?" Craig asked quietly.

Salome's eyes widened and she looked visibly shaken at Craig's words.

"What does that tell you Sal?" Craig asked, lapsing back into the name he had always referred to his wife by.

"I never knew that you knew," Salome said softly, her smooth cheeks flushing slightly as she let her eyes fall to the plush cream carpet beneath her feet.

"What kind of marriage was that Sal?" Craig said kindly, "When you were sleeping around and I didn't even care?"

Craig could still remember vividly the moment when he knew he was going to leave his wife. It wasn't the countless affairs that she had so poorly concealed that had finally driven him to the decision, but rather the realisation that the only thing being hurt by those affairs was his pride.

It had been late and the couple were lying beside each other in their king-sized bed, their faces flushed and their brows damp with sweat as they basked in the afterglow of the physical pleasures of each other's bodies. Sex with Salome was always good, always exciting and physically fulfilling, but it was always just sex.

With a breathy sigh Salome ran a fingertip along the length of her slender neck and looked at her husband with a lustful smile. Whatever else she might have thought about him, Craig had always been able to satisfy her in bed.

"I love you Craig," Salome cooed, reaching out her hand to brush his cheek tenderly as she spoke.

That was the moment that Craig finally admitted to himself the thing he had always known in his heart.

Salome's voice spoke the words of love, her lips curled around them as she smiled, but her eyes were flat. There was no look of love shining from them as he had once believed, in fact there was nothing there at all. No warmth, no affection, and rather than being hurt by such a realisation Craig felt relief. .

There was no way he could ever have left a woman who loved him, who needed him. But Salome Dean was not such a woman.

He had once seen eyes that had looked at him with more love than he thought humanly possible, but they weren't her eyes, they weren't the brown eyes of his wife but rather the blue eyes of the man he had once loved, maybe always loved

The next morning Craig Dean took what few possessions he could fit into an overnight bag and left. He never expected to return.

"OK so maybe I cheated," Salome said, her momentary embarrassment at realising that Craig knew of her indiscretions quickly brushed aside, "But if you hadn't…"

"Oh come on Salome," Craig interrupted. "This was never about ME… this whole marriage was never about ME… it was about YOU getting away from your father and we both know it."

"Why would I have wanted to get away from Papa? I loved him…"

"I never said you didn't," Craig reasoned, "But you were sick of being his little girl weren't you? And the only way he was ever gonna let you go was as a married woman."

Salome opened her mouth to dispute Craig's words but it quickly snapped back closed without a sound being uttered.

Salome had adored her father and he, in return, had doted on his youngest child and only daughter. But as the years progressed and Salome yearned for a life beyond her family home her father's love became suffocating until she knew that she had to escape. Just like she knew the only way Tarquin d'Silas would let her out of his home was when she entered her husband's.

"I think it's time you left," Salome said, her cold tone matching the chill in her deep dark eyes.

"Salome," Craig said, "I am sorry that I just walked out without a word… if I could go back and change things…"

"You'd still leave…"

"Yeah… but not like I did… the way I did that was all wrong… and I am sorry… I did care for you Salome."

"Just go Craig," Salome said as she got to her feet. "You've got nothing to say that I want to hear… and there's somewhere I need to be…"

"Sal, please… talk to me… where can you have to go that's so important."

"I have to pick John up."

"John?"

"Yeah," Salome said before continuing with slow deliberation, "My son."

* * *

John Paul pulled up outside a small, unremarkable house that was situated in an average street of a small ordinary village, but to his eyes he could have been looking at a fortress. The possibility of what may be contained behind those walls terrified him.

Killing the engine John Paul sat for a few moments staring at the red front door vainly hoping that Craig would come running out to him and everything could go back to the way it should be. But he knew that line of thought was pointless and, with a nervous sigh, he hauled himself from the car.

Frankie smiled at the knock on her door, assuming that it would be her youngest son back from visiting his wife. What she wasn't expecting was the face of the blonde man that greeted her.

"John Paul?" Frankie asked in surprise, "John Paul McQueen? Oh my god John Paul what are you doing here?"

"I… erm… is… is Craig here?" John Paul asked as he looked at the woman. Obviously older than when he had last seen her but other than a few more creases around her eyes Frankie Osborn looked virtually unchanged from the woman who had disapproved of him all those years ago.

"I can't believe you're here," Frankie said with a smile, "Come in… I'll put the kettle on…"

John Paul stepped over the threshold uncertainly as Frankie continued to talk, seemingly oblivious to his confused reaction.

"Fancy you turning up on my doorstep the day after Craig comes home," Frankie babbled. "Go through and make yourself comfy, I'll put the kettle on."

Walking into the living room John Paul felt dazed, Frankie's reaction to his presence felt unreal and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

As he sat on the sofa his eyes came to rest on the collection of family photographs that adorned the mantelpiece and he felt himself smile as he saw several representations of Craig over the years.

"So tell me John Paul," Frankie said cheerfully as she entered the room carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. "What made you decide to contact Craig again after… what… it's got to be over ten years…"

"I… err…" The realisation hit John Paul like a steam train. No wonder Frankie was happy to see him, she had no idea that he had been living with her son for a year and a half. "You erm… you said Craig was here?"

"No not right now… he's gone to see Salome."

"Salome?"

"Yeah… his wife."

* * *

"Your son?" Craig echoed. "Your son… and he's called John?"

"That's right," Salome said with a chilling smile. "You remember how when we talked about children you always said you'd call your son John?"

"Is he…"

"What Craig?" Salome fixed her husband with cold, calculating eyes, enjoying every second of his discomfort. She had spent months with the shame of her husband walking out. Watching him squirm was a pleasure that she never thought she'd get to experience again.

"Is he mine?" Craig asked quietly.

"Would you like him to be?"

"Salome please, just tell me…"

"You know what Craig, you leaving me was the best thing you could have ever done… but you know what really hurt?"

"What?"

"Finding out that I'd named my son after your gay lover!"

"Who told you…"

"I mean I'd just got to like the name so I though – well why not? Can you imagine how humiliated I was to be told that my boy, my beautiful baby boy, was named after some queer that used to screw my husband?"

Craig winced at Salome's words.

It was true that he had tried to pretend his relationship with John Paul had never happened and, as such, he had never told his wife about it but, when the subject of children had been discussed the name John had slipped from his tongue without even realising.

"Is he mine?" Craig asked quietly.

"He's eight months old Craig," Salome sneered. "If he'd been yours I would have had him aborted… I want nothing more to do with you… now get out of my house, I don't want to see you around here again."

"I'm sorry," Craig said quietly as he got to his feet, the relief that he wasn't John's father apparent on his face.

"Oh and Craig," Salome said as Craig pulled open the front door, "Make sure you leave your address with Frankie… I need somewhere to finally send the divorce papers, John's father and me want to get married…" With a smug smile Salome raised her hand to show off the sparkling engagement ring that Craig hadn't noticed.

"I hope you're happy Salome," Craig told his wife sincerely.

"I will be… once you're finally out of my life for good…"

"So, does Sir d'Silas approve of his new son-in-law to be?"

"He's dead Craig," Salome said with little emotion. "My father died last year."

"Oh, I'm… I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," came the cold reply, "He left me better off then I could have ever hoped…"

"I'm still sorry, he was a good man…"

"He was an old man… just go Craig, I don't need your sympathy."

"Bye Salome," Craig said sadly. Whatever else had happened he did once care for the woman and it made him sorry to see so little humanity or love left in her. "I… bye…"

Salome Dean slammed the door closed behind her soon to be ex-husband with a satisfied smile. Her father would never have approved of her bearing a child that wasn't her husbands, just as he would never have accepted her desire to divorce and re-marry, and she was glad to finally be rid of both of the men who had been holding her back.

* * *

"Yeah she's a lovely woman," Frankie gushed, completely unaware of John Paul's stunned expression. "I mean I've not seen her for… ohh a good while now, but we still speak on the phone often. I mean her and Craig have had a few problems, but now he's home I'm sure they'll be able to patch things up."

"Yeah I'm sure," John Paul breathed, barely able to believe what he was hearing. "So… so Craig's married then… I mean not… erm… well you said problems, they didn't get divorced or anything?"

"Divorced?" Frankie said with a laugh, "Whatever made you think that? No, they didn't get divorced. Anyway John Paul, you never said what brought you here today…"

John Paul opened his mouth to reply but his response was cut off by a knock at the door.

"Oh that should be Craig now," Frankie said with a smile, "I thought it was him earlier when you knocked… he will be surprised to see you here."

"I bet he will," John Paul said with a sigh.

* * *

"Mum, you could have warned me that she's had…" Craig's words ended abruptly as he walked into the living room and saw the last person in the world he expected to be seated on his mother's sofa. "John Paul," he gasped in shock.

"I was just saying to John Paul," Frankie chattered happily as she followed her son into the room, completely oblivious to the shocked look on his face, "What a coincidence him turning up here the day after you get home… who would have thought it eh? After all these years for you both to be in the same room again… You'll have a lot to catch up on."

"More than I expected," John Paul said levelly, his blue eyes staring coldly at Craig and making the dark haired man shiver. "Your mum tells me you have a wife," John Paul continued, pouring an excessive level of emphasis on the word 'have'.

"I… erm… I…" Craig's gazed flickered towards his mother for a second but he could not keep it from John Paul for more than the briefest moment. He was torn between a desire to run to the man and pull him into his arms or to grab him by the collar and throw him into the street. "What are you doing here?"

"I came looking for you."

"Why? What's the point? Didn't we say everything we had to?"

"Say?" John Paul asked as he got to his feet and took a few steps towards Craig. "We didn't SAY anything… You…" John Paul hesitated. He was painfully aware that Frankie had no idea of her son's living arrangements for the past year and it felt wrong for her to find out this way but he couldn't contain his words and he couldn't be blamed if Craig has chosen to revert back to his comfortable denial. "You walked out without a word Craig… you just went."

Frankie's jaw dropped at the implication of the blonde man's words and she held her breath as she awaited Craig's response.

"What did you expect me to do?" Craig snapped angrily. "You've been shagging around on me, did you really expect me to just take that? It was bad enough when she did it but I couldn't take it again, not from you. I'm not an idiot John Paul."

"Well that's debatable!"

"Meaning?"

"What proof do you have Craig? A couple of anonymous letters and you automatically assume they're true, without hesitation you assume the worst… Did it never even cross your mind that they might be lies?" John Paul's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths and he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets to prevent himself reaching for his lover.

"Why would they be?" Craig asked with a bitter laugh. "Who would even want to do such a thing… there's no one who hates us enough to…"

"Simon," John Paul interrupted.

"What?"

"It was Simon." John Paul's voice lowered as he spoke the name of his ex, sadness and regret flickering through the bright blue of his eyes for a moment. "He admitted it to me…"

"Simon your ex Simon?" Craig asked. It all made sense if it was true. If it was.

"Yeah," John Paul replied, somewhat sadly, "My ex Simon… the man I dumped FOR YOU… the man whose heart I broke FOR YOU… Was he right Craig? Did I make the wrong choice? Is what we've got that fragile that it can be blown apart by a few lies?"

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Frankie interrupted, afraid that she already knew the answer but needing to hear it anyway.

"I'm sorry mum," Craig said, turning his attention to the woman with a sheepish smile. "I should have said something last night but it was just… I…"

"You… and him…" Frankie cast a scowl towards John Paul, the welcome that had been present in her eyes now totally extinguished.

"We're together," Craig replied quietly.

"But… but what about Salome?"

"What about her?"

"Craig she's your wife… you love her… I thought, I thought that was why you went to see her."

"No mum," Craig said gently. "You hoped that was why. I don't love her, I don't think I ever did, not really… not like I love…" Craig left his sentence unfinished but all three of them knew the name that went unspoken.

"She's your wife," Frankie insisted, as if repeating it would make a difference. "She loves you, she wants you back Craig, I know she does… if you just give her a chance…"

"Mum stop it," Craig said firmly. "Sal never loved me, she just needed a husband to get her away from her father, anyone would have done I was just the idiot who fell for it…"

"Of course she loves you…"

"Yeah? So why was she sleeping around behind my back barely five minutes after we got married? She never even made that much effort to hide it from me." Craig sighed softly. He had always dreamed that when he married it would be for love and it would be perfect, but in reality it had been neither of those things.

"She wasn't," Frankie whispered. Salome d'Silas had been everything that Frankie had wanted as a daughter in law. She was beautiful, strong and, probably more importantly, she came from the type of background that Frankie herself had always dreamed of. Marrying Salome had given Craig access to that world and, by default, Frankie has also been allowed a glimpse of it. The second that Craig had left Frankie has found the door to that world slammed in her face and, she had hoped, that his return would be the signal for it to open again.

"Mum she was," Craig laughed to himself. "I even came home early from work one day to find her shagging in our bed!" Craig closed his eyes for a second; he could vividly recall the moment as he pushed open his bedroom door to find his wife in the throes of passion with another man. Her head had been thrown back in ecstasy, groans of pleasure growling deeply in her throat as her lover rode her supple body. "And you know what I did? You know what I did when I saw my wife, my bloody wife, fucking another man? I went back out! I crept out of my own house and gave my wife time to finish shagging her lover. God knows how many other men she screwed in our bed while I was at work. And the worst part, the very worst part… I didn't care! My wife was screwing around and I didn't care… Hell there were times when I thought at least if they were doing it I wouldn't have to!"

"Oh Craig I'm sorry," John Paul said gently, taking a few more steps forward John Paul reached out a hand and ran it softly over Craig's arm. "You should have told me."

"What? Admit how pathetic I am… How I just let my own wife do that?"

"So where does HE fit in to all this?" Frankie asked with venom. "I suppose he persuaded you to walk out on her eh?"

"Hey that was nothing to do with me," John Paul said, his hands raised in a gesture of innocence. "He'd already left her by the time we met again… you can't pin this one on me Frankie."

"You didn't send him on his way though did you?" Frankie continued in an accusatory voice. "You could have told him to go back to her… you could have…"

"Frankie, none of this was my doing… Craig chose to be with me… HE chose it…"

"You finally got what you wanted though didn't you?" Frankie snarled. "It might have taken some time but you finally got your filthy claws into my son."

John Paul took a deep breath in an attempt to keep calm. He wanted nothing more than to scream in the bigoted woman's face but he knew that wouldn't help, and it was the last thing that Craig needed.

"I haven't done anything wrong," John Paul said with forced calmness. "I'm sorry that you still can't approve of your son's choices… but that's what this is… Craig chose ME… he loves ME… and I love him." Turning to look into Craig's soft brown eyes John Paul smiled. "I love him more than anything in my whole life."

In one fluid moment the two men moved towards each other, their fingers entwined and their gaze fused together with an intensity that defied anything being able to break it.

"I love you Craig Dean," John Paul said gently, "There is no one else, there never has been…"

"I love you too," Craig replied with a bright smile. "I'm sorry I doubted you… I just… after Sal… after…"

"It doesn't matter…"

"I should have stayed, talked to you…"

"Yes you should!" John Paul laughed with affection, "No more running away remember?"

"I didn't get very far…"

"I'd have come looking for you how ever far you went…"

"Oh this is all very cosy," Frankie snapped, her voice dripping with bitterness as she watched the last embers of the life she had wanted for her son die out. "But if you think I'm going to…"

"Mum stop it," Craig said, turning the intensity of his stare on his mother. "I was wrong to walk out on Salome like I did, I know that… and I was wrong not to tell you where I was, or why I'd gone… but I knew that if I tried talking to you then you'd have persuaded me to stay…"

"And would that have been such a bad thing?"

"It would have been the worst thing in the world, don't you see that? I was miserable with Sal, every day that we were together was a lie, a sham… is that really the life you want for me?"

"Of course not," Frankie admitted, "I only want you to be happy Craig."

"And I am," Craig replied with a smile, "With John Paul… I don't want to walk out of your life again mum, but if you can't accept who I'm with… who I love… then I'll go, and this time I won't be coming back… It's your choice mum… it's either me and John Paul, or… or nothing."

Frankie stood in silence. As he spoke Craig's fingers were tightly wrapped around John Paul, the blonde haired man smiled at him with the kind of love Frankie had never seen on Salome's face. Frankie felt as if she had been thrown back in time, back to the first time her son had declared his love for the young McQueen boy, back to the time when she realised that she had a choice to make, accept her son's love or risk losing him forever.

"You two had better sit down," Frankie said finally, "I'll go and put the kettle on… sounds like there's a lot of my son's life I've been missing out on…"


	4. Chapter 4

John Paul sighed softly as he lay in the stillness of the semi-darkened room, the soft cotton of the duvet cover gently resting against his bare skin.

It had been a day filled with surprises. He had thought that nothing could have shocked him more than discovering Craig was still married, but that was eclipsed when Frankie, somewhat begrudgingly it was true, had allowed her son and his gay lover to spend the night together under her roof. As if managing to spend a relatively pleasant day with her hadn't been astonishing already. John Paul never thought he would have seen such a day and it made him realise just how desperate Frankie was not to lose her son again. That was something they had in common.

"Budge up," Craig said as he pulled back the duvet and slipped into the bed beside John Paul.

Shuffling over slightly John Paul smiled as Craig lay down beside him. There was nothing that gave him such comfort as having the man he loved next to him.

"You smell minty," John Paul laughed.

"I'm sorry…"

"For cleaning your teeth?"

"No… for everything else… for running away… for not trusting you… for not telling you the truth about Salome…"

"So why didn't you?"

"Tell you?"

"Yeah…"

Craig turned onto his side and, propping his head up with one hand he looked down onto John Paul's face. The younger man's eyes were closed, denying Craig a view of the beautiful blue that he knew lay hidden beneath his eyelids, and his expression was impassive, giving no hint of the emotions that nestled in the man's chest.

"I was ashamed I guess," Craig said quietly.

"Ashamed?" John Paul repeated, opening his eyes and turning his face towards Craig, smiling at the image of the older man, half hidden in shadow, watching over him. "What of?"

"Of me… being so… so pathetic… what kind of a man knows his wife is doing that and says nothing? Does nothing?"

Reaching out a hand John Paul brushed his fingertips over Craig's cheek. "The kind who made a mistake and married someone he didn't really love?"

"I made such a mess of things," Craig said, catching John Paul's hand with his own and turning his face to press his lips to the man's palm. "She cheated on me for so long and then when I thought that you were…"

"I wasn't…"

"I know…"

"And I wouldn't…"

"Promise?"

"Always."

"So am I forgiven for being such an idiot?" Craig asked with a grin.

"Well I can hardly blame you for that can I?" John Paul teased, "Some people are just born idiots!"

"OI! Take that back," Craig complained with a laugh.

"Make me…"

With one fluid moment Craig was quickly straddled across John Paul's hips, pinning the younger man's hands above his head as he leaned over him.

"Take it back," Craig breathed, his mouth only a fraction of an inch from John Paul so that the heat of his words bathed the younger man's lips.

"Shan't," John Paul replied as he strained to lift his head high enough to claim Craig's mouth but it was pulled back just out of his reach.

"Admit that I'm a genius," Craig insisted, gripping both of John Paul's wrists with one hand and then stroking the other slowly over John Paul's smooth chest, playing momentarily with his quickly hardened nipples, before moving down over his belly and stopping a hair's breadth from the tip of John Paul's cock, which was already straining for attention.

"Never," John Paul whimpered as he bucked his hips in an attempt to give his cock contact with the heat of the body above him.

"Naughty," Craig chided with a laugh.

"I will be if you give me a chance…"

"Just say it…"

"No…" John Paul's laughter quickly turned to a deep throaty moan as Craig's fingers wrapped around the thickness of his fully aroused cock and stroked it firmly.

"I want to fuck you John Paul," Craig said as he teased his thumb over the leaking head of John Paul's cock, spreading the pre-cum in slow tantalising circles, making the man groan deeply. "I want to push my dick so deep inside you and fuck you slow and hard… I want to make you moan and scream my name…" Craig's hand moved harder and faster over the length of John Paul's throbbing erection, the promises in his words making it pulse even harder as John Paul's body ached to feel what Craig's words were suggesting.

"Oh god… Craig…"

"You love the feel of my dick inside you don't you John Paul? Sliding in and out… slowly at first but getting faster and harder until I'm pounding your arse so hard that it makes you come like you've never come before…"

"Fuck…"

"I want to do all that," Craig continued with a laugh as he quickly moved his hands away from John Paul's body and placed them instead beside his head, looking down on the man with a wicked grin. "But I might just be too much of an idiot to know how!"

"Craig Dean you are evil," John Paul laughed, a deep laugh filled with frustration and desire. "An evil fucking genius…"

"A fucking genius?" Craig repeated, "I like the sound of that!"

"Me too… so prove it and fuck me…"

Craig's kiss was hot and frantic, his own desire having built up just as strongly as his lovers, and he pressed the full length of his body against John Paul, rolling his hips slowly as they kissed, their cocks rubbing together and making them both moan.

John Paul's hand snaked between their bodies to catch a hold of both hard cocks and squeezed them together as he ran his fingers up and down their length, swirling their droplets of pre-cum around as both men panted with breathless desire.

"Fuck me Craig," John Paul groaned, parting his legs wide so that Craig could kneel between them.

Sitting back on his heels Craig let his eyes wander over John Paul's naked form, its beauty somehow enhanced as the shadows of the darkened room made the man appear to be sculpted from the purest marble. John Paul's cock lay firm and proud against his belly, a single beam of moonlight finding its way from the crack in the curtains, illuminated the pre-cum glistening at its tip. Leaning forward Craig lapped his tongue against the head of John Paul's cock to taste the shimmering delicacy causing the younger man to curl his fingers into the sheet beneath him and groan with unabashed lust.

A million words of love and desire tumbled through Craig's mind, but none of them found their way to his lips as he stroked his hands along the softness of John Paul's thighs and slowly raised the man's legs high until they came to rest on his shoulders.

Craig's cock ached beyond reason to be nestled deep inside that hot exciting flesh, feeling as if it had been denied such pleasure for a lifetime. He never knew that being away from someone for so short a time could still feel like an eternity.

Moistening his fingers for a moment in his mouth Craig pressed them against the tightness of John Paul's opening, causing the man to raise himself higher and urge Craig inside him.

John Paul's flesh soon gave way to Craig's probing fingers and, as he explored the heat that enveloped them the men's eyes locked together, both so dark with lust and longing and yet still shining brightly with unrelenting love.

"Craig," John Paul panted as Craig's fingers pushed deeper into him, opening him up and preparing him for something so much better, "Now… please god fuck me now…"

Gripping his cock in one hand Craig guided it between John Paul's buttocks to circle around the opening his fingers had just vacated. John Paul groaned with need as Craig continued to brush the head of his cock against John Paul's flesh without pushing forward hard enough to enter it.

"Craig… for god's sake… please…"

Craig breathed deeply and slowly, forcing himself to hold back on the moment of pleasure he wanted so badly. As much as he longed to drive his cock deep into the body beneath him he knew that moment was always so much sweeter if he had made John Paul beg for it. There was nothing quite so erotically charged as knowing that he could make someone want him enough to beg. That John Paul could want him enough to beg.

Easing forward slightly Craig pressed the head of his cock firmly against John Paul's puckered hole, pulling back just before its admittance was granted, an action that made the blonde man whimper in frustration.

"Craig please…" John Paul said again, his gaze fixed on Craig's deep brown eyes that reflected back his own deep desire, "I need you inside me… Craig fuck me… now… please… I… fuck!"

Craig knew that there was only so much pleasure to be gained from words and, as John Paul spoke, he gently but firmly guided his cock into the hot tight passage that wanted it so badly.

John Paul's eyes widened as Craig's cock moved deeper inside him, filling and stretching him as it eased in, inch by delicious inch, painfully yet wonderfully slowly, giving each man chance to savour every second, every sensation until the fullness of Craig's erection was completely consumed.

John Paul's legs slid from Craig's shoulders to wrap tightly around the man's back, where they both stayed, frozen in an erotic tableau for a moment, enjoying the feeling of such pure intimacy, of being together and sharing their love.

Leaning forward Craig brushed a minty kiss over John Paul's hot mouth, his tongue flicking over John Paul's soft lips as the younger man's hands reached up to curl into Craig's hair.

Craig's long, soft, silky locks wrapped around John Paul's fingers and he pulled gently as Craig began to rock his hips back and forward slowly.

Still holding tightly onto Craig's hair John Paul used it to pull the man back to him, raising his own head to claim the heat of Craig's mouth again, their lips parting and their tongues joining to dance together in the heat that they shared between them.

John Paul's mouth travelled over Craig's cheeks, his eyes, his nose and then back to his mouth as Craig's thrusts grew steadily harder and faster leaving both men panting, their faces flushed and their brows damp with sweat.

Sweeping his tongue along Craig's firm jaw line John Paul paused to bite hard against the man's chin, causing Craig to whimper in a moment of surprised pleasured pain that made him thrust even deeper into the tight body beneath him.

Craig growled as John Paul's teeth nipped a path along his neck before stopping to sink deeply into his tender flesh, biting and sucking hard against it until a sharp tang of copper filled John Paul's mouth.

Craig's moans intensified, growing louder and more frenzied as he rode his cock in and out of John Paul's body, faster and harder, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh mingling with the creaking of the bed and the cries of pleasure.

"Oh god Craig," John Paul groaned, his head thrown back as he pulled hard against the older man's hair, urging him on as the wonderful thickness of Craig's cock filled his body and slammed wave after wave of pleasure through him. John Paul's own cock, although lying untouched, was weeping copious amounts of pre-cum, throbbing in time with each inward thrust of Craig's hips and threatening to explode at any second.

Craig's body trembled as he fucked John Paul as hard and fast as he could, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man below him, a man who was writhing in such ecstasy that he was obviously only moments away from ultimate release.

"Tell me you want me," Craig urged.

"You know I do… so much…. God you know it…"

"Tell me how much you love me fucking you…"

"More than anything… I love having your dick inside me… oh fuck I…"

"Tell me I'm better than anyone you've ever had…"

"By miles… so much better…"

"Better than Simon…"

"Better than anyone…"

"Say it though… tell me John Paul… tell me I'm better…"

"Craig… you're… you're better than anyone I've ever had… you fuck me better than Simon ever did… oh god Craig I'm gonna…"

"Come for me John Paul," Craig panted, quickly wrapping one hand around the hot throbbing length of John Paul's cock.

"Oh god Craig, fuck me…"

John Paul cried out at Craig's touch, bucking his hips as, with a few firm fast strokes, the younger man's climax erupted from him, raining down a tidal wave of heat that bathed his belly in its sticky delight.

His lover's satisfaction achieved Craig gave himself over completely to the sensations of his flesh, his cock hot and pulsating inside a body that gripped it perfectly and now throbbed around it as the remnants of John Paul's pleasure still made him shudder.

"I love you… John… Paul… McQueen," Craig panted between each thrust. "You… feel… so… fucking… good… and… oh god… John Paul… I… fuck…."

Craig's words were lost amidst a loud moan of pleasure as his cock poured out its heat deep inside John Paul's body, wave after wave of desire and lust pulsing out of him until Craig had nothing left to give.

With a sigh of exhaustion and satisfaction Craig let his body fall on top of John Paul, the warmth of John Paul's come squelching between them as they shared a soft gentle kiss, their hands stroking at each other's bodies with affection.

"Wow," Craig panted as he finally rolled onto his back at John Paul's side.

"Yeah," John Paul agreed breathlessly.

"So what was that about being a fucking genius?"

"Ahh you were alright," John Paul teased with a smile.

"Oi!"

"I love you Craig Dean."

"I love you too…"

Closing his eyes John Paul rested his head against Craig's shoulder as the first tendrils of sleep pulled at his mind. And, just before he finally drifted off John Paul was sure he heard a voice whispering quietly in his ear.

"How can he love you if he doesn't trust you?"

* * *

John Paul's eyes flickered open slowly as he stirred lazily beneath the warmth of the duvet. He could hear the slow steady breaths of the man beside him and the sound gave him great comfort. Only twenty-four hours ago he had been driving to a house he had never been to before in the vain hope that he would find Craig there. Only twenty-four hours ago he had wondered if he would ever see that dark haired man again. What a difference a day could make.

Stretching his limbs John Paul's stomach let out a low growl and he realised what it was that had woken him, as the mouth-watering aroma of bacon filled his senses and made his stomach protest its emptiness even louder.

"Craig," he said, shoving his lover gently with one hand, "Craig wake up…"

"Mmmm," Craig mumbled incoherently as he turned onto his side and nestled his way into the warmth of John Paul's body.

"Oi sleepy head," John Paul continued with a smile, shaking the slumberous man firmly, "Time to get up."

"Five more minutes," Craig insisted, snaking one arm over John Paul's chest and brushing a soft kiss against his shoulder.

"No, now," John Paul insisted with a laugh, "I think your mum's cooking breakfast."

Opening one eye Craig turned the deep chocolate pool to observe John Paul's smiling features. Waking up beside the blonde man had momentarily confused Craig's memories and it took him a few seconds to reconcile the facts in his head as the events of the past day reassembled themselves in his mind.

With a groan Craig forced himself to sit upright, rubbing his hand over his sleepy eyes before stretching his arms up to the ceiling.

John Paul watched at the muscles in Craig's back and forearms rippled with the mans stretches and he had to make himself look away before getting out of bed became an impossibility.

Ten minutes later both men were showered and dressed, their hair still damp as they entered the kitchen where Frankie was busy dishing eggs, bacon, sausages and mushrooms onto plates as Jack sat at the large wooden table sipping on his tea.

"Morning lads," Jack said with a warm welcoming smile as the two men entered the room. Despite the years that had passed since John Paul had last seen the Scotsman Jack hardly seemed to have changed. His hair might have been greyer and thinner and there may have been a few more wrinkles around his eyes, but beneath those superficial differences John Paul could still see the warm, caring man that he had admired as a teenager.

"Jack, it's good to see you again," John Paul said, reaching his hand across the table to firmly shake the one that was offered to him.

"You too lad," Jack replied with a broad grin, a smile that threw John Paul back in time and made him feel very much that teenage boy who had often wished his own father had been more like the man that had welcomed the Dean children into his life and treated them as his own.

"Sit down, sit down," Jack said, gesturing at the empty chairs around the table and placing mugs before the men at they took their seats.

"Thanks," John Paul said as his mug was filled with hot tea and he sipped at it gratefully.

"Cheers Jack," Craig echoed, smiling as he realised just how much he had missed his mother and her husband in the years he had been away.

"So. Did you lads sleep well?" Jack asked, his eyes sparkling and a laugh falling from his lips as Frankie dropped a knife onto the floor, a warning look flashing from her eyes.

"Fine thanks," Craig replied, oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between Frankie and the amused Scotsman.

"Nothing kept you awake then?" Jack continued, grinning broadly at his wife as she placed a large cooked breakfast before the three men before taking a seat in front of her own. Her attention seemingly fixed on the contents of her plate. Not once had she looked her son or John Paul in the eye since they entered the room.

"No, why?" Craig asked around a mouthful of hot food. Nobody cooked a breakfast quite like his mother, even John Paul's never managed to hit the spot in the same way, not that Craig would ever have admitted the fact.

"Jack shh," Frankie hissed, turning her eyes to her husband and issuing a warning that he chose to ignore. He was having far too much fun.

"No strange… noises in the night?" Jack said as he sunk his teeth into a sausage, biting into it with zest.

"Nope," Craig replied again as he shovelled another forkful of food into his mouth.

John Paul's smile had widened as the conversation progressed and he found himself giggling whilst trying to distract himself by spearing several small mushrooms with his fork.

"What about you John Paul?" Jack asked, "You sleep OK?"

The men's eyes met in understanding across the breakfast table, their grins mirror images of each other as they silently acknowledged the meaning behind Jack's words.

"Erm… I…"John Paul's shoulders began to shake as he tried hard not to give into the laughter that was bubbling up in his stomach.

"What's going on?" Craig mumbled around his breakfast, his brow furrowed as he watched John Paul fighting to hold in his amusement.

"I'm really sorry Jack," John Paul said between giggles. "We should have been more considerate."

"What are you sorry for?" Craig asked, his eyes flitting from his boyfriend, to his stepfather and on to his mother, who was still unable to look him in the face.

"Don't you worry boys," Jack said kindly, "It's good to know you err… made up!"

"Jack? John Paul… what are you two…" Craig's fork slipped from his fingers and rattled noisily against his half empty plate as the realisation hit him. "Oh god!" He had lived with John Paul for so long now, just the two of them, with no one around to disturb that the fact his mother and Jack had been in the house the previous night had never even crossed his mind.

Craig could feel his cheeks begin to grow a deep crimson colour. Knowing that anyone had heard him and John Paul making love would be an embarrassment, but knowing it was his own mother multiplied that a thousand fold. No wonder she couldn't look at him.

John Paul smiled sympathetically at Craig's obvious distress, his own embarrassment was far less that that of his lovers, of course had it been Myra McQueen sat in Frankie's place he was sure it would have been his own cheeks that glowed scarlet.

"Mum I… shit… I'm sorry I…" Craig stammered, his blushes deepening as he fought to find the words, every second wishing that he didn't have to.

"Forget it," Frankie replied quietly, her gaze slowly lifting to meet her son's, a small smile creeping onto her face as she saw his blushes and listened to his stuttering apology. He looked so much like the young boy Frankie had raised and yet, as John Paul's hand squeezed his shoulder affectionately, she could also see the man he was now, a man who was very much loved. "One thing though Craig… the next time you and John Paul stay over… maybe you could refrain from…"

"Yeah, course," Craig blurted out quickly so that he didn't have to hear his mother finish her request. After a few seconds Craig began to smile. Frankie had said "next time". Frankie Osborne was offering a welcome to her son and his partner again. Despite his lingering embarrassment Craig couldn't help but feel a thrill of joy as the realisation that he had, finally, gained his mother's acceptance. He had tried to be the man she wanted him to and had failed but now, after what felt like a lifetime, Craig was able to be himself and at last that was enough.

* * *

"Thanks for the breakfast Frankie," John Paul said with an appreciative smile as he shook the woman's hand before turning to her husband. "Jack good to see you again."

"Don't stay away so long next time son," Jack said to Craig as he hugged his stepson briefly, "Frankie never stops worrying about you you know…"

"Yeah… sorry," Craig said, "It wont happen again, promise."

"Come here," Frankie said as she pulled the man into her arms and squeezed him tightly, reluctant to let him go in case he never came back again. "You call me soon OK."

"I will, I promise… and sorry about… err… you know…"

John Paul opened the front door as Craig and his mother said their goodbyes and he couldn't keep the smile from his face. Despite all of Frankie's faults he never doubted her love for her children and, seeing the happiness on Craig's face, John Paul realised that his boyfriend had missed his mother during the past few years.

"Oh mum," Craig said, pausing as he stepped through the doorway, "How come you never mentioned that Sal had a kid?"

"She's what?" Frankie replied, her eyes widening with shock.

"Yeah… a boy… you didn't know?"

"I had no idea… I've not seen her for so long but you would have thought someone would have mentioned it." Frankie shook her head in wonderment until a thought occurred to her. "He's not..?"

"What?"

"The boy… I mean he's not…"

"Mine? Craig laughed. "God no. No, thankfully once the divorce is settled I never have to deal with that woman again… she's someone else's problem now."

With a final kiss to his mother's cheek and a shake of Jack's hand Craig hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and headed for his car, realising at the last moment that, as he and John Paul had arrived separately, they would have to make the journey back in their own vehicles.

"See you back at home," John Paul said, pressing a warm loving kiss to his lover's mouth. "Oh and Craig," John Paul continued as Craig opened the door to his car.

"Yeah…"

"There's nobody back at ours that we have to worry about overhearing us!"

"Funny!"

"Craig… one more thing…"

"What?" Craig asked in amused exasperation as turned his head to look at the beautiful blue-eyed man he had almost let slip away.

"I love you."

* * *

John Paul's heart sank as he pulled his car up to the kerb. Closing his eyes for a second he took a deep breath before turning off the engine and getting out.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his calm voice masking the anger that was causing him to clench his fists deep inside his jacket pockets.

"On your own?" Simon gloated, "Craig decide not to come back with you? That's a shame."

John Paul cast a quick glance down the street, he had lost Craig's car at some traffic lights a couple of miles back and he hoped that he could make Simon leave before Craig got home.

"Just go Simon," John Paul said, "I don't know why you're still here, what do you think you can achieve."

"I just wanted to see you suffer," Simon replied, his voice laced with bitterness, his eyes cold and soulless.

John Paul shivered for a moment. Was this really the man he had once believed he could spend his life with? Was this the same man he had once considered to be gentle and kind? It was hard to believe that this was the same Simon who had held John Paul in his arms while he slept, who he had laughed and joked with, who he had loved. Had Simon always been capable of such malice or was it something that John Paul's betrayal had brought out in him? He could remember the way Simon would sometimes make disparaging remarks about his exes but he had never thought the man capable of the things he had done to try and destroy John Paul's relationship. He couldn't help but wonder if he had ever really known the man at all, or had he only ever loved the shadow of the man, the illusion that Simon had been willing to show him?

"You've had your fun," John Paul said, "Now please just go."

"Oh but I'm still enjoying myself," Simon laughed, "How does it feel to have your heart ripped out? Come on John Paul, tell me how it felt when lover boy told you where to go…"

"I'm sorry," John Paul said quietly, real regret in his voice and his sensitive blue eyes shining with sadness for the man he had once loved.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Simon asked uncertainly, noticing for the first time that John Paul didn't appear to be the broken wreck he had hoped for. "Sorry for what."

"I'm sorry I hurt you Simon," John Paul said kindly, "I'm sorry that I lied to you and I'm sorry that the only enjoyment you seem to be able to get now is in seeing me hurt." As he spoke John Paul heard the sound of a car pulling in behind his own. "But you've failed… Craig hasn't left me…"

"But I saw him…" Simon's words died as Craig appeared at John Paul's side, the dark haired man's hand resting protectively on the blonde man's shoulder.

"What's he doing here?" Craig snarled between gritted teeth. Craig had once felt sympathy for the man, he knew only to well how much it hurt to lose someone he loved, he even knew how much it hurt to lose John Paul, but all sympathies had died when he learned that Simon had been behind the letters that had made him, to his shame, doubt his boyfriends fidelity.

"He's just going," John Paul replied, his gaze focused on Simon but still somehow making it clear that his real attention was on the man at his side.

"You… you left…" Simon said in confusion, "I saw you go…"

Dropping his hand from John Paul's shoulder Craig took a threatening step forward. His normally soft brown eyes blazed with anger and he was consumed with a desire to let his fists connect with the mouth that had once dared to kiss his John Paul and to blacken the eyes that had once looked on his lover with passion.

"Well I came back," Craig snarled, "And I suggest that you're the one who leaves now… while you can still walk."

Craig took another step forward, his shoulders were hunched and tense and he waited for the smallest provocation so that he could release his hold on his anger.

"Craig," John Paul gently pulled the dark haired man back to his side, "Don't… he's not worth it…"

"But he…"

"I know what he did," John Paul said quietly, "And what do you think he'd do if you laid a finger on him? He'd have the police on you in a heartbeat."

Turning his gaze from the pathetic man before him Craig felt his anger tempered by the soft blue eyes beside him. John Paul was right, Simon would like nothing more than to cause more trouble for them, but he could only do that if they let him.

"I suggest you leave now Simon," Craig said coolly, "there's nothing left for you around here."

"He'll cheat on you," Simon snapped, anger and frustration coursing through his veins as he saw all of his carefully calculated plans come to nothing. "John Paul McQueen is a liar and a cheat and it wont be long before he IS screwing around behind your back… then you'll wish you listened to me…"

Craig let his gaze travel from the bitter, rejected man before him to the warm and loving one at his side and smiled. Pressing his lips softly against John Paul's mouth Craig kissed his lover gently.

"Come on," he said, not taking his gaze from the beauty of John Paul's eyes, "Let's get inside."

Without another backward glance the two men turned their backs on Simon and made there way into their home, leaving Simon fuming on the pavement. He had been so sure he had destroyed them but the exchange between the two men had looked stronger and more filled with love and commitment than it ever had before. If anything his actions appeared to have brought the couple even closer together.

"You'll see," Simon muttered to himself as he stomped off down the street, "You'll see I was right one day."

* * *

Craig allowed himself to awaken slowly as the last flimsy tendrils of sleep gave up their hold on his mind. With his eyes still tightly closed he basked in the warm feeling of contentment, both in waking up in his own bed and also in the fact that the man he loved beyond reason was lying asleep beside him.

Turning slowly and gently so as not to waken his sleeping angel Craig turned onto his side and moved a little closer to John Paul's back, snaking one arm carefully around the man and touching his lips softly to the warm skin of his neck.

John Paul sighed quietly in his sleep as Craig nuzzled up closer, breathing in the delicate perfume of John Paul's skin blended with the lingering scent of shower gel. The sleeping man's skin was warm beneath the duvet as Craig pressed his chest closely into the man's back, and he enjoyed the feeling of his lover's soft smooth skin against his own.

Craig couldn't remember ever feeling more peaceful than he did during such moments, and he cursed himself for a second as he thought of what he almost lost, almost threw away.

John Paul stirred slightly in his slumber, his skin rubbing against Craig's as he moved and his buttocks pressing into Craig's groin, causing the older man to push his body forward so that he could enjoy the sensation even more.

Craig kissed a little firmer into the crook of John Paul's neck as he ran his hand over the man's chest, tickling over the nipples that hardened to his touch.

John Paul sighed again, this time a little louder, his mind still more asleep than awake but his body already eagerly responding to Craig's tantalising touch.

Craig's cock twitched and stirred, growing harder with each gentle sigh that escaped from John Paul's lips. He was torn between a desire to waken the man fully or to slowly tease his body and let his own arousal awaken him.

Stretching his arm downwards Craig ran his palms over the softness of John Paul's thighs whilst covering the man's broad back and shoulders with hot wet kisses, pausing occasionally to nibble at the delicious flesh.

Rocking his hips slowly Craig guided his now fully erect cock between John Paul's buttocks, sliding it leisurely up and down the valley between the man's cheeks and groaning softly as it throbbed, almost painfully, with the pleasures of its new home and the desire to go deeper, so much deeper.

Kneading the soft flesh of John Paul's thighs Craig moved his hand higher to stroke over the man's groin, smiling as he came into contact with John Paul's hard thick cock, which seemed to dance in his hand as he curled his fingers tenderly around it.

John Paul gasped at Craig's touch, a deep moan growling in his throat as Craig's grip eased his foreskin back and forth and drove every last scrap of sleep from him.

Craig could tell from the increased volume of John Paul's sighs and moans that his lover was now fully awake and yet neither man chose to acknowledge the fact, both of them enjoying the pretence that the John Paul was still sleeping.

Wriggling his spare hand between their bodies Craig took hold of his own cock and pressed its tip against John Paul's perfectly tight hole, spreading his precum around it as he continued to wank his "sleeping" lover.

John Paul's body shuddered in anticipation, his knees curling up towards his chest slightly as he pushed back against the hardness that was threatening, or more accurately promising, to penetrate him.

John Paul gasped as Craig bit hard into his neck, sucking on the skin like a hungry vampire until he was rewarded by the rich coppery taste as his teeth broke John Paul's delicate skin.

Still feasting on John Paul's neck Craig rocked his hips back and forward, pushing a little harder each time as John Paul breathed out slowly, his breaths becoming a loud moan as his tight ring of muscle finally gave up its resistance and welcomed the tip of Craig's cock inside.

Craig paused for a moment and then pushed forward a little further, easing his cock inside slowly, inch by magnificent inch as John Paul's tight body opened up and devoured him.

John Paul's moans and pants blended together as his body was assaulted by a multitude of pleasures. Craig's teeth sent shivers down his spine as they continued to bite hard, Craig's hand made his cock throb and ache as it stroked him harder and faster and Craig's cock made his whole body want to scream with excitement as it pushed deeply inside him, filling him more perfectly than anyone else ever could as a mind blowing mix of pain and pleasure flowed through him.

Craig rubbed his thumb over the head of John Paul's cock as he stroked it, spreading the hot silky precum in taunting circles that always guaranteed louder and more abandoned moans to rumble in John Paul's throat.

"Oh fuck," Craig panted quietly, rocking his cock in and out of John Paul's tight flesh, his hips moving faster second upon second as a glistening of sweat prickled his brow and his climax charged rapidly towards release.

Holding John Paul's cock tighter Craig masturbated his sleeping beauty in time with his own hard stabbing thrusts, driving his cock deep into his lover over and over again as he moaned and panted into John Paul's neck.

John Paul's body trembled as Craig's cock plundered his flesh, brushing against his prostate with practiced expertise as Craig's hand encouraged his cock to surrender its desire.

"Oh god John Paul… John Paul…" Craig growled, his cock throbbing and pulsing as he rode John Paul's body with excitement. Unable to hold back his lust any longer Craig cried out loudly as he came, his cock firing load after hot load deep inside John Paul's flesh as he continued his deep, hard and fast thrusts.

Craig's fingers tightened around John Paul's cock, making the man pant heavily the faster his hand moved until he was soon joining Craig in his satisfied release as he called out Craig's name while bathing the man's hand in his hot, sticky climax.

The men rocked together, their motions slowing as their bodies began to relax and muscles that had tensed now became fluid.

Craig gently withdrew from John Paul and the man turned to lie on his back, opening his arms to pull Craig into a hot, sweaty and breathless embrace. Craig smiled as he pressed his lips to John Paul's hot mouth in a deep kiss heavy with love and spent desire before resting his head on the man's chest to listen to his still racing heart.

"Morning," Craig said quietly with a soft giggle.

"You should wake me up like that more often," John Paul said, kissing the top of Craig's head as he held the man tightly.

"Maybe I will," Craig replied with another laugh. "Oh, but I think I might have marked your neck… sorry."

"Never mind," John Paul said with a small shrug, "That way everyone will know I'm yours."


	5. Chapter 5

Simon haunted John Paul's dreams. Despite Craig's strong arms around him or Craig's warm breath on the back of his neck John Paul had no respite from the soulless grey eyes of his previous lover. They mocked him cruelly as he slept, not with bitterness or anger but with the emptiness he had seen in them, the emptiness he had put there.

Waking up early Craig watched John Paul sleeping and cursed his gnawing belief that everyone would leave him one day. He knew that it went back to his father, and beyond. That was why he had loved the scams of his childhood, the only guarantee that he would get the upper hand before someone else could. And that was why he would all too often flee; running from something that could bring him happiness because he also knew it could bring him pain.

Craig knew that he had allowed Simon to exploit that fear and yet, for the first time, Craig felt it had gone. Simon had given him the dark night of the soul, liberating him from the darkness of his own insecurities. Now he wanted to surprise John Paul, to do something special to make up for ever doubting the man he loved.

John Paul murmured restlessly in his sleep, turning onto his back with one arm thrown over his eyes as if desperately trying to block out the sight of something he couldn't bare to witness.

Craig raised himself onto one elbow and ran his fingertips gently over John Paul's soft cheek in an attempt to soothe the man's troubled sleep. John Paul's arm fell from his eyes as a small smile tickled at the corner of his mouth and, in his dreams, the empty grey eyes that chilled him to the core were replaced by soft brown ones that warmed his very soul.

Craig smiled and touched his lips lightly to John Paul's mouth before lying back down beside his lover and closing his eyes with a contented smile. Craig had a dream and that dream involved a cottage, a roaring fire and an endless night of worshipping John Paul's body. He had decided that he would make the dream a reality as soon as he practically could.

* * *

Snatching up a slice of thickly buttered toast John Paul got to his feet, the kitchen chair scraping loudly against the floor as he pushed it backwards and sighed around the mouthful of breakfast.

"I'd better get going," John Paul said, the toast gripped between his teeth as he pulled his tie up to his neck.

"Careful," Craig warned, leaning across the table and snatching the toast from John Paul's mouth just in time to prevent a large dollop of melted butter falling onto his shirt, instead it splattered harmlessly onto the kitchen table.

"What would I do without you?" John Paul asked with a bright smile that illuminated his brilliant blue eyes like early morning sunshine and warmed Craig just as surely. "I'll see you later."

Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair John Paul took a quick mouthful of coffee and pressed a hot kiss to Craig's lips as he pulled the jacket onto his arms.

"What time will you be home?" Craig asked.

"I dunno, the usual," John Paul replied, repressing the sigh that echoed in his head. Every day for the past three weeks since Craig had come home John Paul's lover had asked the same question. Although John Paul could understand Craig's lingering insecurities and need for reassurance it was somewhat wearing knowing that, if he should be late, Craig might once again be assaulted by fears of betrayal.

"Have a good day then," Craig said with a smile, raising his face to receive another kiss before John Paul raced from the room. Craig could hear the jangle of keys as John Paul grabbed them from the sideboard followed by the slam of the front door as he left.

Craig smiled as the sound of John Paul's car engine faded into silence, a silence that engulfed Craig completely and the dark haired man enjoyed the moment of peace before jumping to his feet. He might have the day off work, a fact that he hadn't shared with his boyfriend, but that didn't mean he didn't have a busy day planned.

John Paul deserved to know just how much he was loved and Craig was determined to make sure he did. Filling the kettle with water Craig prepared himself another coffee and he ran through his plans in his head. It was flawless. Nothing could go wrong.

* * *

John Paul cursed under his breath as he killed the engine of his car and fought with his seat belt, which stubbornly refused to give, keeping him tied into his seat and making him swear louder.

How had it happened? More importantly how had he let it happen?

Taking a slow deep breath John Paul finally managed to free himself from the car's restraints and clambered out of the vehicle.

The street was quiet. And shrouded in darkness.

Streetlights illuminated the glistening surface of the road, dampened by a recent downpour and now shimmering like jewels in the glowing amber lights.

A sudden high-pitched meow from a neighbouring garden made John Paul start and he jumped back as the jet-black feline darted across his path. The sound of the cat prompted the Jack Russell pup across the road to begin its incessant yapping, which John Paul suspected would continue for some hours before its owners would manage to quieten it.

Sighing despondently John Paul slipped his key into the lock and, turning it, he pushed the door open slowly.

A feeling of apprehension seemed to sit on John Paul's shoulders as he walked into the living room.

He had had every intention of leaving work on time.

He had had every intention of "just" getting this one last job done.

He had had every intention of calling Craig when he thought he might be late.

Looking at his watch John Paul grimaced as he realised it was almost a quarter past ten.

All of his intentions had come to nothing and Craig, who was sat silently in the armchair, hadn't so much as looked up when John Paul entered the room.

"I'm sorry," John Paul said quietly, taking a few steps forward and then hesitating as an angry silence greeted his words. "I didn't realise how late it was and I…" John Paul shrugged. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid as to let the time speed past him without noticing. He should have been more careful. It wasn't as if he didn't know how insecure Craig could be at times. It wasn't as if the situation with Simon wasn't still fresh in both of their minds. And yet he had still managed to go and give Craig a fresh reason to doubt him.

"Craig?" The name breathed from John Paul's lips in a nervous whisper.

"I waited for you," Craig said without turning his head, his words clawing from between gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry," John Paul said again, "I really never meant to…"

"You made me look like an idiot…"

"An idiot? How… what… I don't know what you mean…"

Craig didn't reply. Instead he ground his teeth together and stared unblinking at the darkened TV screen. He was so angry with John Paul for letting him down, but more than that he was disappointed, and he was scared if he spoke he could say something he regretted.

"Craig please," John Paul sighed, taking a tentative step forward and stopping again as Craig's shoulders visibly hunched up. "I'll put the kettle on eh?"

Turning and walking towards the kitchen John Paul shook his head. Perfect. A cup of tea, the English solution to all of life's problems.

It wasn't like he could blame Craig for being angry but he hoped and prayed that it was only anger and not that Craig felt any suspicion that something other than work had been the cause of John Paul's tardiness.

Flicking on the kitchen light John Paul froze. In the centre of the table lay a single red rose resting on top of a folded sheet of cream coloured paper.

Moving the rose to one side John Paul lifted the note and saw his name written in Craig's unmistakable hand on the front. More of Craig's writing was revealed as he unfolded the page.

"Go into the bedroom," the note instructed.

Somewhat confused John Paul followed Craig's written instructions and was met by a second red rose lying on their bed. Beneath it lay another letter together with John Paul's best suit and shirt, all neatly ironed.

John Paul frowned and licked his lips as he lifted up the rose and reached for the second note, addressed exactly the same as the first, and read its message.

A sinking feeling hit the blonde man's stomach as his eyes took in Craig's words.

"Sapori D'Italia. 8.30. Our table. I'll be waiting for you."

"Oh no," John Paul said under his breath as he rubbed one hand over his face.

"Craig I am so sorry," John Paul said as he re-entered the living room, the rose from the bedroom in his outstretched hand. "I had no idea."

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Craig replied quietly, finally turning his face towards his boyfriend, his deep brown eyes filled with a sadness that clawed at John Paul's chest. "I wanted to do something special for you."

"I didn't know," John Paul said, walking to Craig's side and crouching down next to the armchair. "You should have said."

"Then it wouldn't have been a surprise," Craig answered with a small sad shrug.

"Did you wait long?" John Paul asked quietly, dreading the answer.

Craig had been full of excitement as he had taken his seat in their favourite Italian restaurant at just before eight that evening. Stocking up the bathroom with John Paul's favourite shower gel and hanging fluffy white towels on the rail Craig had made sure he would he out of the house by six, the time that John Paul was normally due home.

Killing time walking around the late night shops Craig had smiled to himself as he imagined John Paul finding his notes and preparing for their date.

Never once had it crossed Craig's mind that John Paul wouldn't show up. He had said he'd be home on time. He'd said so.

By eight-forty Craig had begun to watch the restaurant door earnestly as he sipped his glass of house white and waited for his companion to arrive.

By nine Craig was fidgeting in his seat, his head snapping up every time the restaurant door opened and his hand constantly flicking on his mobile to check for messages.

At nine-thirty Craig had given up. The occasional looks of sympathy from the other diners, as well as the waiters who he had gotten to know, had finally proved too much. They all knew he'd been stood up and he felt embarrassed and foolish.

Paying for his drink Craig had scurried from the restaurant as fast as he could, leaping into the first available taxi he could find to get him away from the scene of his humiliation.

"Long enough," Craig said curtly in reply to John Paul's question.

"I'm sorry," John Paul repeated, reaching out his hand to Craig's, holding it tightly, relieved when the man didn't pull away.

"You could have called."

"Time just… got away from me…"

"I kept telling myself you'd be there any minute," Craig said. As he has waited for John Paul to get home Craig had thought of all the things he would say to the man, shout at him, but all of his anger had been dissolved by the regret and sorrow in John Paul's brilliant azure eyes, however not even their beauty was enough to take away the ache of disappointment that was lodged firmly in his chest. "But you never came…"

Looking deeply into Craig's eyes John Paul was convinced, for a second, that he saw a flash of grey, the grey of his dreams, of his nightmares, but that image was replaced a moment later by the deep chocolate brown that he knew and loved.

"If I'd know…" John Paul replied, his fingers gripping tightly around the rose stem, making him wince and drop the flower to the floor as the thorns pierced his skin.

"Here… what have you done?" Craig asked, reaching over the arm of the sofa to pull John Paul's damaged hand into view, wiping away the droplets of blood with his thumb. "It's just a couple of scratches," he said with a gentle smile, the first smile John Paul had seen since getting home. "You'll live!"

"The least I deserve," John Paul replied apologetically as a fresh drop of crimson bloomed onto his palm, the colour as deep as the rose that had wounded him. "It… it was just work you know… the reason I was late…"

"Yeah," Craig said as he kissed the blood from his lover's hand, the rich coppery taste filling his mouth. "I know."

With a smile John Paul reached his undamaged hand to Craig's cheek, stroking it softly and turning the older man's face towards him.

Their eyes fused together for an instant, only seconds before their lips did. The heat of the men's kiss melding them together and saying everything that their words sometimes couldn't.

* * *

The clock seemed tauntingly slow, even for a work day, even for a Friday, and John Paul had taken to hiding his watch as the cruel ticking hands had driven him to distraction. Every minute had felt like ten and every hour seemed to last a day.

By mid afternoon John Paul was convinced that some cruel trick of fate had made time stand still and he would be forever cursed to a life of a constant Friday afternoon that never quite made it to the end of the day. Keeping him perpetually moments away from the promise of a night out with Craig to celebrate John Paul's thirtieth birthday.

Of course the truth was that time was running at the same speed it always did and, despite John Paul's fear that it might never arrive, finally the hands of the office clock pointed to five thirty and the blonde man let out a sigh of relief as he powered down his computer.

"Hey John Paul."

The man had got as far as slipping one arm into his jacket but froze at the sound of his name being spoken by a colleague who was suddenly standing in the doorway.

John Paul had no dislike for David; the man in his late forties was pleasant enough. His once black hair was peppered with silver and his suit jacket was constantly stretched over a slight paunch that told of the man's vanity, constantly refusing to accept that he needed to purchase clothes of a larger size. David's main problem, in the eyes of his workmates at least, was that since his divorce fourteen months earlier the man had thrown himself into his work to the exclusion of everything else, making him constantly forget that the rest of the office actually had lives outside of those four walls.

"You couldn't hang on and give me a hand with the report for next weeks meeting could you?"

John Paul sighed. "David it's Friday night," he said with another, slightly louder sigh.

"Yeah I know," David replied with a shrug that said Friday was just another day that meant nothing to him. "Just half an hour though yeah?"

John Paul could still remember the last time he had give the man "just half an hour". It had resulted in him not getting home till late and inadvertently standing Craig up in the process. Despite the fact that several months had passed since that day John Paul still felt the occasional twinge of guilt as he remembered his dark haired lover waiting in the restaurant for him, only to be disappointed. John Paul had vowed never to do such a thing again, not if he could help it.

"Sorry David," John Paul said as he pulled his jacket over his other arm and grabbed his keys from his desk. "But not tonight… I've got plans…"

David watched as the younger man walked away from him and felt a pang of envy. It had been a long time since he had made plans with anyone. Turning back to his own office David resigned himself to another late night in the quiet building, the truth was he hadn't so much needed John Paul's assistance as he had craved some company but he couldn't blame the young man for leaving. If he had someone to go home to he wouldn't still be there either.

* * *

"You're on time," Craig said as John Paul walked into the living room.

"Did you doubt it?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

The two men laughed softly together as John Paul slipped off his jacket, dropping it onto the sofa as Craig pulled him into a warm embrace.

No matter how long they had been together John Paul still couldn't get over that rush he felt each day when he came home to the man he had loved for an eternity.

Craig's kiss was soft and warm, his tongue tickling lightly over John Paul's lips as his arms pulled the man tight against him. But it wasn't just a kiss; it wasn't just mouth against mouth or the prelude to a sexual act. It was a moment of connection, of commitment and love. It was a few seconds at the start of an evening when the two men paused just to savour each other and to bask in the knowledge of the love they shared.

"I've run you a bath," Craig said as he stepped back, letting his arms slowly fall from around his boyfriend, "And there's lasagne in the oven when you're done."

"You cooked?"

"I can cook!"

"Yeah, but you never do…"

"Nothing's too good for the birthday boy."

"Craig!" John Paul raised his eyebrows in mock accusation making the older man laugh and nod his head in defeat.

"OK my mum brought it round when she dropped off your card… but I have put it in the oven to heat up!"

"My hero!" John Paul teased, kissing his boyfriend once again before heading towards the bathroom. "So where are we going tonight?"

"Dunno," Craig replied with a shrug. "Thought we'd start off at the pub and see where it goes from there."

John Paul smiled, trying to hide the slight disappointment, when Craig had said they should go out to celebrate his birthday he had hoped for something more than a trip to the local. Even the promise of a restaurant had been quashed by the presence of the lasagne in the oven. But, John Paul consoled himself, it was still going to be a birthday celebrated with the man he loved and that was all he really needed.

Craig grinned to himself as John Paul went for his bath. For the past few weeks Craig had been organising something a little more than a trip to the local for a pint, but John Paul didn't need to know that, well not yet anyway.

* * *

John Paul sighed in contentment as he slipped into the hot water, the sweet fragrant bubbles clinging to his naked skin as he lay back in the bath and let the stresses of the working week soak away. Closing his eyes John Paul felt all of his muscles relax.

The water was at the perfect temperature, a no doubt delicious dinner was cooking and he had a night out with his wonderful boyfriend to look forward to. John Paul didn't think life could get any better. It was so perfect that a small part of John Paul's subconscious was waiting for it to come crashing down around him, but for the moment at least the man was enjoying being happy. He had fought hard for his happiness and he would fight to keep it.

* * *

"John Paul," Craig said quietly, taking a deep breath before he continued talking, "John Paul we… you and me… well we've been together for a while now… yeah you know that… Look what I'm trying to say is… what I mean is… argh you are such a moron!"

Craig grimaced at his reflection in the mirror, his forehead wrinkled over his dark brooding eyes as he shook his head in frustration.

He had planned John Paul's thirtieth birthday celebrations perfectly. To the letter. Nothing had been left to chance. But somehow the one final detail that he had planned to make the day perfect was still eluding him. The right words were eluding him.

"John Paul," Craig began again, staring intently in the mirror and biting his lip. "John Paul McQueen… I… I think we… that is you and me… what I'm saying is… the two of us… we're good, better than good… and I think it would be good if… Oh come on Craig just say it… marry me… John Paul will you just marry me?"

Craig laughed and shook his head as he turned away from the mirror. John Paul was hardly going to be blown away by a proposal as stuttered as that. Why had he left it to the last minute to think about what to say? Craig had assumed that the words would just come but he was starting to learn some things weren't as easy as he expected.

* * *

John Paul spread warm soapy bubbles over the contours of his chest, massaging the foam into his skin as he lay back in the bathtub. His hands pushed the fragrant lather down into the water, his hands continuing beneath its surface to stroke over his taught belly and brush lightly over his groin, which twitched at the touch, making him sigh softly.

Instinctively John Paul's fingers curled around his semi-erect cock, feeling it grow and harden to his touch. With his eyes closed tightly John Paul rested his head back against the edge of the tub, stroking himself slowly as images of Craig filled his mind.

In his minds eye it was Craig's hand that gripped firmly around his growing erection, Craig's thumb running over its sensitive end to swirl the mixture of precum and warm water against the throbbing head.

John Paul could vividly recall the evening a couple of weeks earlier when Craig had pushed him down onto the bed before proceeding to slowly strip, forbidding John Paul to move a muscle, not allowing him to touch either Craig or himself, driving him so crazy that, after ten minutes of constant taunting, John Paul felt ready to explode.

John Paul smiled as he replayed his memories of Craig's naked movements. The way the man ran his hands over his firm nipples, down over his chest and belly, cupping his balls and rolling them together as he hovered his hard cock only inches from John Paul's wet mouth, but still not allowing his blonde lover to close the gap and suck on the length that made drool run from the corners of his mouth. Sucking on his own finger Craig had slowly bent forward, parting his buttocks with one hand and pushing the other between, his wet finger circling his hole before pushing firmly inside. Making John Paul gasp as he watched his dark haired lover pleasuring his tight hole, yearning to be the one making Craig sigh like that.

Groaning loudly John Paul shuddered, making the hot water of his bath slosh over the sides. His cock and balls throbbed heavily as his grip tightened, his need for release growing more and more desperate, while the Craig in his mind climbed onto the bed and, in one fluid movement, impaled himself on the impressive length of John Paul's cock. A moment that in reality had made both men cry out loudly and which, in memory, pushed John Paul over the edge as his cock exploded in his hand, his hot milky come swirling into the bubbles of his bathtub.

"John Paul are you going to be long," Craig called through the door.

"I'm coming," John Paul called back, stifling a giggle as he hauled himself to his feet, deciding it would probably be an idea to rinse himself over with the shower before drying off.

* * *

Craig hadn't been able to take his eyes of his boyfriend when the blonde man came out of the bedroom.

John Paul's black jeans clung tightly to his legs, emphasising his muscled thighs, and his black long sleeved shirt seemed to make the blue of his eyes shine even more brightly.

Suddenly Craig had the urge to forget the lasagne and the night out and drag his lover back into the bedroom, but he knew he would just have to wait until later before he could explore the delicious body hidden beneath those dark clothes.

"This is really good," John Paul mumbled around a mouthful of lasagne, already filling his fork again.

"I heat a mean meal," Craig replied with a laugh. "Oh I nearly forgot…"

Grabbing an envelope from the side Craig handed it to John Paul with a grin.

Putting down his fork the younger man opened the envelope with a wry smile.

"A birthday card off Frankie… who would have ever expected!"

"I always knew she'd like you in the end!"

"Really?"

"OK… Hoped!"

The two men smiled at each other across the table. It was amazing to them both that Craig's mother had finally accepted John Paul's presence in his life, a fact that John Paul put down to the woman not wanting to lose touch with her son again. But whatever the reason John Paul appreciated Frankie's efforts

'To John Paul… Happy Birthday… Frankie and Jack.'

The card might not have been filled with affection, but the woman who once blamed John Paul for ruining her son's life had made the effort to send birthday greetings and that was worth more than any insincere sentiments she could have written.

"That reminds me," John Paul said with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Craig asked in mock innocence.

"I don't recall a gift from my boyfriend yet…"

"No? You should have words with him about that!"

"I intend to!"

"You'll just have to wait," Craig replied, returning his attention back to his meal and refusing to be drawn on the matter further.

* * *

"So, we'll just have a couple in here and then see about going on somewhere else," Craig said as they approached their local, doing his best to hide a smile as his hand rested against the wooden door.

John Paul stood back for a moment to admire the view of his boyfriend's rear. His round, tight arse was cupped perfectly inside his dark blue jeans and John Paul couldn't resist reaching out a hand and squeezing it firmly.

"Oi," Craig giggled as he pushed open the door, "Save that for later…"

John Paul was about to reply but his words never made it to his lips as his mouth fell open at the sight before him.

The whole room was decorated with multi coloured balloons declaring "Happy 30th Birthday" and a large banner that cried out the same words from above the bar. John Paul spun this way and that, taking in the decorations and multitude of guests, each one taking his breath away.

Along one wall a row of tables were covered with plates of buffet food, from which Michaela McQueen was already filling a plate, the final table stacked with champagne bottles and glasses.

Family and friends cheered as the young man stared at them, speechless and overwhelmed at seeing them all there.

"Was this you?" John Paul asked, turning to his boyfriend with an amazed smile.

"Did you really think I wouldn't do anything for your 30th?"

"How did you… when did you… I had no idea…"

"That's what makes it a surprise party… it's OK isn't it?"

"OK?" John Paul looked around the room again; he couldn't remember the last time everyone he cared about was in the same place at the same time. "I… Craig Dean you are remarkable… I can't believe you did this… thank you… I… I love you… thank you."

"Happy birthday John Paul," Craig said with a smile as he pulled his boyfriend close, kissing him deeply to the cheers and applause of their friends and family, making both men smile, their eyes burning together as they pulled apart, the love they shared reflecting back and forth between them and promising to continue to do so into eternity.

* * *

John Paul had spent the last two hours mingling with his guests, flitting from one group to another. Embracing friends he hadn't seen for years and those he had left at work only a few hours earlier.

The McQueen women had all gathered around him at one point, showering their brother and son with kisses and gifts making the young man laugh and blush and feel like a teenager again.

John Paul's jaw ached with smiling so much and he couldn't imagine a more perfect birthday if he tried, even if it had meant that he was pulled away from Craig's side for a large portion of the evening.

"Having a good time?" Craig's breath whispered hotly into John Paul's ear and the birthday boy span around to embrace his boyfriend.

"It's brilliant," John Paul enthused as he covered Craig's face with soft butterfly kisses, "It couldn't be better."

"No? You've not had your present yet!"

"Oh but I thought the party?" John Paul said stepping back to look into Craig's face. The man's dark eyes shone brightly and his soft pink lips curled up into a loving smile that made John Paul's heart race and knees tremble.

"Well I got you something too," Craig said as he dipped his hand into his pocket, "It's not much only… well I saw it and I thought you might like it and…" Craig hesitated. A gift that had seemed perfect suddenly made him nervous, what if John Paul didn't like it?

Craig held out the small gift wrapped package with a slightly shaky hand. "If you don't like it…" he began quietly.

"I'll love it," John Paul replied with certainty as he tore at the brightly coloured paper to reveal the dark blue box inside. Lifting open the box John Paul gasped softly at the sight beneath.

The white gold St Christopher shone brightly under the flashing disco lights of the party, its single diamond glistening as it reflected back the blinking colours.

"It's gorgeous," John Paul said, tearing his eyes from the necklace to look at his boyfriend, "really gorgeous…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah… I love it…"

"I… it's engraved… on the other side…"

Turning the St Christopher over John Paul read the delicate engraving on its reverse.

'To John Paul, Love Always Craig. 16th May 2007'

"16th May?" John Paul said curiously.

"Yeah err…" Craig blushed lightly, a shy grin filling his face. "It was the first time we… you know…"

"Yeah I know," John Paul replied, "I'm just surprised you remember…"

Taking the necklace from its box Craig fastened it around his boyfriend's neck and smiled as it lay perfectly against the small reveal of skin where John Paul's shirt buttons were unfastened.

"How could I forget?" Craig asked, pressing a small kiss to John Paul's lips, "It was the day everything changed… my life change… and I know I messed up after that but… well it was the start of everything wasn't it? The start of us… that's something worth remembering."

"I love it," John Paul said, placing his hand over the necklace that rested coolly against his skin, "I love you…"

"John Paul there's… there's something else… I…" Craig bit his lip and took a deep breath. He knew it was the perfect time and he had to get the words out now or he might never manage it.

"Happy birthday John Paul," a drunken voice called out loudly as the doors to the bar slammed open.

"What the..?" John Paul began, looking at Craig curiously.

"I didn't invite him," Craig replied, not that John Paul had assumed for one second that the drunk staggering towards them had been on the guest list.

"Happy birthday," Simon slurred again as he pushed a large card into John Paul's hands. "Well open it…"

Exchanging another look with his boyfriend John Paul opened the envelope cautiously and, pulling out the large ornate card, he winced. "Simon, no…" he said trying to hand the card that was emblazoned with the words 'To the one I love' back to his ex.

"It's yours," Simon insisted, "All for you… the birthday boy… you haven't looked inside yet… I wrote you something… read it… go on…"

John Paul sighed. Most of the guests had fallen quite, silently witnessing the exchange between John Paul and his ex-boyfriend and the situation was making the man feel more and more uncomfortable.

"Simon, please don't…" John Paul said quietly.

"You're not welcome here," Craig said, taking the unread card from John Paul's hands and forcing it against Simon's chest, "You or your card, so just leave…"

"I'll read it to you then," Simon said, totally ignoring the dark haired man who looked at him threateningly. "To my John Paul," Simon read loudly, "with all my love on your 30th birthday… we will be together again. I love you. Simon…"

John Paul shuffled uncomfortably, uncertain of what do to or say to make the situation end.

"Get out," Craig said through gritted teeth, grabbing at Simon's crumpled white shirt and shoving him towards the door.

Turning his full attention on the man who stole his lover Simon snarled, his lips curled in anger and he pushed the dark haired man away from him.

"You're the one who shouldn't be here," Simon growled, "You're the one who should leave… he's mine…" Simon's voice grew louder and angrier as he spoke, his words and actions fuelled by rejection and alcohol. "John Paul is mine… he's always been mine and you can't have him…"

"Just go Simon," John Paul pleaded, stepping forward and laying a gentle hand on the man's trembling shoulder.

"No," Simon snapped back, spinning around, his fist landing squarely against John Paul's face, sending the man staggering back as blood spilled from his nose.

"Right that's it," Craig said, his own fists ready to rain down a torrent of violence against the grey-eyed man, only to be restrained by several hands.

"Get out before we call the police," the bar manager said to Simon, his voice calm but firm as his staff continued to hold Craig tightly to prevent him from extracting the revenge he so greatly desired.

"But I…" Simon began, but even in his drunken state he could see he was outnumbered and slowly began to back towards the door. "I'll call you John Paul," he said as he turned to leave, "We'll be alright, you'll see… I'll get rid of him and then it'll just be us… how it's supposed to be… You still love me John Paul, I know you do…"

As the door swung closed the hands that were holding Craig tightly released their grip and the man quickly raced to his lover's side, his eyes filled with pain at the sight of blood spattered over John Paul's face.

"Are you alright?" Craig asked gently.

"Yeah," John Paul replied with a faked laugh, "Wouldn't be a party without a punch up!"

"I'm really sorry… I…"

"It wasn't your fault…"

A bright glint caught Craig's eye making him bend down to retrieve the shining object.

"The chain broke," he said sadly as he held up the St Christopher necklace, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Doesn't matter," John Paul reassured him, "We'll get it fixed. It's OK Craig… really…"

"I just wanted you to have a good birthday…"

"And I have… this doesn't change it… it's been the best birthday ever…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah…"

"I love you John Paul…" Craig said with a sad smile as he slipped the broken chain into his pocket.

"I'd better go and get cleaned up," John Paul said, indicating the blood on his hands, "This party isn't over, we still have a lot of celebrating to do!"

Craig watched his boyfriend head towards the gents to wash the blood from his hands and face and tried his best not to wonder why John Paul hadn't said 'I love you' back. He always said it back. Why not this time?

* * *

Craig lay silent in the semi-darkness. His head, resting on the softness of his pillow, was turned to the side so that he could watch his lover sleep. A sleep that had so far failed to claim the older man.

In the scant light Craig could see the deep purple bruising that had bloomed against John Paul's ivory skin, a colourful reminder, as if one were needed, of the events that had ruined the party Craig had spent weeks preparing.

But it wasn't just the spoiled party that angered Craig, nor the lost chance of a proposal or even the way his birthday gift to John Paul now lay broken on the bedside table. All of those things angered him of course, but they didn't enrage him as much as seeing the blood on his lovers face, and they didn't hurt him as deeply as the moment when he waited for John Paul to say three words that never came.

After Simon had been thrown from the party, and John Paul has washed the worst of the blood from his face, everyone had tried to continue as if nothing had happened. But the mood had been spoiled and nothing was going to get it back. Not the McQueen women improvising karaoke, despite the lack of microphones and equipment, not the impromptu limbo dance with the aid of a broom and not even the arrival of the cake, illuminated by thirty candles whose light danced like tiny stars, making John Paul's face glow before he blew them out.

The party had been over the moment John Paul's ex had walked in through the doors and within two hours all but the die-hard celebrants had drifted off home.

John Paul sighed softly in his sleep making Craig smile at the wistful sound and wonder what dreams were dancing through the blonde man's mind.

Reaching out a hand Craig stroked a few stray hairs away from his boyfriend's eyes, causing John Paul to turn his face into the warmth of Craig's palm and nestle his cheek against it.

Craig's eyes filled with tears. It had cut him deeply when John Paul hadn't returned his 'I love you' earlier but as they lay together in the stillness of the night Craig realised that he didn't always need the words to know he was loved. John Paul's presence in his life told him of the fact a million times a day.

Closing his eyes Craig let his hand slip from John Paul's cheek to stroke along the man's neck before finally coming to a rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of a strong and passionate heart.

Instinctively Craig moved closer to his lover as sleep finally began to call to him and the stresses and anger of the day started to release their hold.

But Simon couldn't be allowed to get away with what he had done and, as Craig gave up his grip on the day, he knew that he would be seeing the man again before too much longer.

* * *

It had taken Craig three weeks. Three weeks of casual questioning, subtle enquiries and, when that didn't work, some rather intense investigations.

Craig had asked everyone he could think of, even people he had barely spoken to in his life. He had questioned everyone he knew, and some he didn't. Everyone apart from John Paul that was. John Paul couldn't be allowed to know, Craig knew that the younger man would be bound to try and stop him and he didn't want to have that argument. This was something Craig had to do and so, while keeping his intentions from the man he loved, Craig made his plans.

Three weeks and two days after John Paul's disastrous thirtieth birthday party Craig found himself standing on an unfamiliar street, outside an unfamiliar house and hoping that he was doing the right thing.

The street was unremarkable, much like every other street in the area. Rows of red bricked houses of an almost identical style with very little to set the apart from each other but the occasional brightly coloured door.

The door of the house Craig was standing outside of was painted red. Its crimson gloss shone in the early afternoon sunlight giving the appearance of being freshly painted, although as he got closer Craig could see a few cracks in the paintwork, betraying the true age of the doors red coating.

The garden in front of the house was pristine. The neatly trimmed lawn was edged by a collection of hyacinths and their elegant bluish purple flowers gave off a gentle perfume as Craig passed them. Whoever cared for the garden did so with great diligence, there were no signs of weeds or any hint of neglect and the edge of the lawn was sharp as if it was an incision made by a great surgeon. In fact the garden was so perfect it almost seemed unnatural and Craig could imagine the unknown gardener rushing out the second a stray leaf landed on the immaculate lawn, not allowing it to remain and mar the perfection.

As he reached the crimson door Craig took a deep breath and raised his hand to the bright white door bell, hesitating for a moment before pressing his thumb firmly against it and listening to the accompanying sound as the bell announced his presence to the house's occupier.

Within seconds Craig heard footsteps approaching and he took an involuntary step backwards as the door opened.

Simon's grey eyes opened wide with shock at the sight of the dark haired man on his doorstep. The fact that Craig had come to see him at all was shocking enough, but the fact that the man had found out where Simon lived made him incredibly nervous.

"Wh… what are you doing here?" Simon asked, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the door tightly.

"I've come to tell you to leave John Paul alone," Craig said with a step forward, "to leave us alone."

"You shouldn't be here…" Simon said nervously, "Go away…"

Craig took another step forward blocking the door as Simon attempted to close it on him. He was finding his plan of remaining calm more difficult than he expected as he looked into the face of the man who seemed determined to destroy his relationship.

"I'll go as soon as I know you'll keep out of John Paul's life…"

"He's mine," Simon snarled, still trying to close the door despite Craig's foot being planted firmly in the way.

"He doesn't want you… he doesn't love you." Craig took a deep breath and looked Simon squarely in the eye. "John Paul does not love you."

"Yes he does," Simon insisted in a voice so heavy with sincerity that it made Craig shiver, "We were fine till you turned up and confused him… John Paul will remember that he loves me and he'll come back… then we'll be OK… you're the one he doesn't love, you're the one who should be made to go away…"

"Look Simon," Craig said through gritted teeth, "You and John Paul are over… you need to accept that. He CHOSE me… he loves me… the sooner you realise that…"

"He's mine!" Simon snapped, "He's mine and I want him back… I'll get him back…"

Craig shook his head. He had known that Simon had a problem, but seeing him like that, hearing him speak with such conviction was not just sad, it was frightening. Craig had assumed that Simon was nothing more than an annoying ex who wasn't ready to let go but now he was starting to think there was something a lot more unhinged about the man.

"Simon he doesn't want you," Craig insisted again, desperately trying to keep his composure but feeling it slipping from his grip.

"We'll be fine when you're gone…"

"I'm not going anywhere…"

"We'll see… you've already left him once…"

"It was a misunderstanding," Craig said as calmly as he could manage through his rising temper, "A misunderstanding that you orchestrated…"

"It didn't take much though did it?" Simon sneered. "You know he's capable of cheating don't you Craig… you're always going to be waiting for him to do it to you… and he will… he'll come back to me and then we'll be rid of you…"

"Simon that isn't going to happen," Craig replied, trying to keep his voice calm and understanding, "You have to understand that… John Paul left you… it's over… he's with me and that's the end of it…"

Without warning a torrent of tears poured from Simon's empty grey eyes, his shoulders shaking with sobs as Craig stood by and watched with discomfort. He might not have liked the man but he still had sympathy for seeing such distress.

"Come on Simon," Craig tried kindly, "You'll meet someone else… someone who does love you…"

"John Paul loved me," Simon said in a shaky voice.

"I know he did," Craig replied gently, placing a comforting hand on Simon's shoulder, "Let's get you inside and make a drink eh?"

With a small smile Craig stepped past Simon and into the house, not hearing the gasped "No" as Simon tried, a moment too late, to prevent his ex-lover's boyfriend entering the house.

There were two doors leading off the small hallway and Craig walked through the second one that was slightly ajar assuming, rightly, that it lead to the main living room.

Stepping into the room Craig stopped dead as a feeling of fear and shock washed over him.

The room was small and sparsely furnished. The two-seat sofa looked new, hardly showing any signs of wear on its deep blue fabric and the single sideboard of deep mahogany was brightly polished with no ornaments to clutter its gleaming surface. In one corner a large flat screen television and accompanying DVD player rested on a chrome stand, shining brightly as if still brand new.

But Craig didn't see any of those things; his entire attention was consumed by the array of photographs that covered every available inch of wall space.

Hundreds, possibly thousands, of reproductions of John Paul's face stared back at Craig as he turned a hundred and eighty degrees, his shock and fear rising with each new image that he focussed on.

One moment he was looking at a photograph of John Paul leaving work, the next was a shot of the blonde man standing on the doorstep signing for a parcel, and next a picture of John Paul and Craig sharing a private joke as they walked through the park, at least they had though it was private.

Image after image assaulted Craig's senses until he didn't know if he would pass out or vomit.

"What the…" He gasped in shock as he tried to understand what he was seeing, afraid all to well that he did understand what he was seeing.

"John Paul is mine," Simon said coldly as he closed the living room door, all sign of tears gone, and a steely cold look filling his grey eyes. "Why couldn't you just leave him alone?"

"Simon what is all this?" Craig asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

Simon smiled, a chilling smile that made Craig step back nervously until he bumped against the sofa. "It's my John Paul," Simon replied as he cast his glance around the pictures that adorned his home. "Mine. And you can't keep him. Why couldn't you have just gone like you were supposed to?"


	6. Chapter 6

John Paul frowned.

The telephone had been ringing for five minutes but Craig still hadn't answered and it was the fourth time John Paul had tried. Craig had the day off work and had planned a lazy day at home, so why hadn't he been there for the last hour?

With a sigh John Paul hung up and then, in a vain hope of success, dialled Craig's mobile number.

"Hi this is Craig," Craig's answer phone message bubbled cheerfully, "I can't answer your call right now and… well you know the drill… speak after the sound."

"Craig it's me," John Paul said, "Where are you? Call me as soon as you get this… I'm… just call me OK?"

Replacing the telephone receiver John Paul took a deep breath. There was bound to be a good reason that he couldn't contact Craig. The dark haired man was always letting his mobile battery run flat. John Paul chose to forget having seen the phone plugged into its charger earlier that morning.

There would be a simple explanation. There would be.

Wouldn't there?

* * *

"I… I should really be going," Craig said in a voice that he hoped sounded far calmer than he was starting to feel.

Simon was still standing in front of the living room door, effectively blocking Craig's exit, unless he fancied pushing the man out of the way. Normally Craig wouldn't have hesitated in tackling Simon, but there was something in those strange grey eyes that made Craig certain that initiating any kind of physical contact would be a very bad move.

"He's lovely isn't he?" Simon said, seemingly unaware of Craig's words, possibly even Craig's presence. "So very gorgeous," Simon smiled at the photographs on the walls. "He'll be back with me soon… he got confused you see… someone confused him. But that's nearly over now and then he'll be home with me… He loves me… John Paul McQueen loves me…"

Simon took a few steps away from the door to brush his hand over one of the photographs and Craig seized the opportunity to move.

In a flash Simon was in front of Craig again, barring his exit, the wistful look in his eyes gone, replaced by something much darker. A look that Craig tried not to notice, desperate not to put a name to the look with which he was being observed and yet a single word still chose to drift through his mind. 'Murderous.'

"Simon I… I've really got to go," Craig said with a smile as he took one small step forward.

"You should never have come here," Simon replied coldly.

"Well I'm going now…"

"It's too late… you got in the way… you'll always be in the way…"

"Just let me leave and I'll… I'll go away… you wont see me again…"

Simon tilted his head to one side as if letting Craig's words sink into his mind. That was all he ever wanted. Craig to be gone so that John Paul would remember who he really loved.

The force of the blow that connected with Craig's stomach took the dark haired man totally by surprise and sent him staggering back into the middle of the room, colliding with the sofa before coming to a panting halt.

"You're lying to me," Simon screamed. His voice was shrill and furious and his whole body trembled as he approached Craig slowly. "Do you think I'm stupid? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Taking a deep breath Craig pulled himself upright and looked Simon squarely in the eye. He didn't know if he was being brave or foolish, but something told Craig that this meeting couldn't end well whatever he did.

"I'm the person John Paul loves," Craig replied quietly. His voice calm despite the fear and anger bubbling through his veins. "This has to end Simon."

"He's mine," Simon yelled back, his eyes glistening with anger and hatred as he aimed another blow at Craig's stomach. This time Craig was prepared and stepped out of the way causing Simon's fist to crash heavily against one of the wooden beams in the back of his sofa.

"No," Simon screamed in a mixture of pain and anger as he grabbed the bottom of the sofa and sent it crashing across the room in such a show of strength that Craig began to seriously fear for his life.

Craig's hand instinctively fell to his jeans pocket where he could feel the comforting weight of his mobile phone. It had seemed a good idea to turn it off before ringing Simon's door bell; he had though it better if they could talk without interruption. But now interruption was exactly what he needed and he pulled the phone from his pocket, fumbling to turn it on while never letting his eyes leave the man who was crashing around the room like he was possessed.

The sideboard went crashing over, its drawers spilling out its contents as it fell, scattering further photographs of John Paul across the carpet.

The light from Craig's phone caught Simon's eye and the man sent it flying to the other side of the room with a single blow.

"Calling someone?" Simon barked. The only thing that Craig could see in the man's eyes now was a frightening insanity making him back into the wall, regretting his decision not to tell anyone where he was planning to go that day.

"I… I though John Paul… he should be here…" Craig stammered.

"You don't talk about him," Simon yelled, "You don't even say his name…"

Gripping the front of Craig's shirt Simon threw his rival across the room with startling ease, knocking the air from Craig's lungs as he crashed into the wall opposite before crumpling to the floor.

"You ruined everything," Simon yelled as he charged towards Craig, his foot landing squarely in the man's stomach, making Craig curl up in an attempt to protect himself. "We were happy till you showed up… and we'll be again happy when I get rid of you…"

"You think John Paul wont miss me?" Craig gasped, struggling to get to his feet. "Won't wonder where I am?"

"He'll just think you left him again… he doesn't need you… we don't need you… once you're out of the way everything will be alright…"

Simon's hand closed around Craig's throat and he pulled the man fully upright. "You've got to go Craig… you're in the way," he said, his voice suddenly calm while his fingers tightened, making Craig gasp.

Craig struggled in Simon's grip. He had never considered himself a weak man but the blows he had already received had sapped Craig's strength and he could not seem to break free from Simon's psychotic hold that had already cut off his air.

"Simon… please…" Craig croaked, his voice straining as stars began to shimmer before his eyes.

Craig had never known fear like it. He could feel his life slipping from him as death breathed hotly in his ear. He couldn't help but think of all the things he wouldn't get to do. Hot tears streaked his cheeks as he thought of John Paul. Would the blonde man just assume he had left again? Craig couldn't bare the thought of that, nor could he bare the idea of John Paul knowing what had really happened. Craig wanted to protect John Paul from all that pain but Craig had no strength left to protect him with.

Craig's fingernails clawed at Simon's wrist, scoring bloody lines across the man's flesh as he fought for freedom, for breath. All he could hear was the deep steady pounding of his blood, drumming in his ears louder and louder and yet increasingly slower as his life began to slip from him.

Simon held his grip tightly around Craig's throat, the man's pulse throbbing heavily against his fingertips, not noticing the blood that trickled from the scratches on his wrist, not seeing the fear in Craig's deep brown eyes and not considering what would happen once he ended the life that had stolen his.

All Simon could see was the future he had painted in his fantasies. In Simon's mind the second that Craig was gone John Paul would forget the dark haired man and return to the arms of the person he should never have left.

Simon could never have understood the love that John Paul had for the man who was slowly giving up his hold on life. Simon could never know how losing Craig would kill the part of John Paul that made him who he was.

Simon didn't understand what real love was. All he had was a terrifying obsession, but sometimes obsession could be just as powerful as love.

Craig's arms fell limply to his side. His strength was gone and he knew that his life was only a heartbeat behind it. As his vision began to darken he thought he heard someone speaking his name, he thought he heard John Paul. But he knew it was just a dream. A beautiful dream.

* * *

John Paul fought back the urge to throw his phone across the office. Despite telling himself that there was nothing to worry about and Craig had probably just gone to the shops, he couldn't hold himself back from trying to call again, and again. And each time he got no response John Paul's fears intensified.

John Paul tried his best to think of positive reasons for his inability to contact his lover. Maybe Craig was planning another surprise; perhaps he'd decided on the spur of the moment to visit Frankie and had forgotten his mobile. But try as he might John Paul couldn't help but fear another reason for Craig's absence. Perhaps he had left again.

There was no real reason for John Paul to worry about such a thing, but then he hadn't know there was a reason to fear it the last time and until he heard Craig's reassuring voice again nothing would soothe his concerns.

* * *

"Let him go Mr Gibson" The voice was calm and composed and took Simon completely by surprise. So much so that his fingers released their hold on Craig and the dark haired man slid lifelessly to the floor.

Simon spun around to face the voice that addressed him and, the moment he saw the uniform, he knew it was all over.

PC Collins had expected the call to be "just another domestic", anticipating nothing more than a rowing couple who's dispute had aggravated their neighbours enough to call in the police.

What he had seen when he entered the house was something else entirely.

The front door had been left wide open after Simon followed Craig into the living room earlier and PC Collins had stepped through it cautiously. Two years into the job the stout blonde police officer had learnt the hard way that not everybody would appreciate his intervention, he had the scars to prove it, and so he had moved slowly and quietly into the house.

But the second he entered the living room the officer had assessed the situation and beckoned his partner into the room before addressing the man whom he believed to be the owner of the house.

Simon's gaze flickered back and forth between the two policemen. Quickly assessing his chances of escape, but he soon realised that the two men standing in his doorway were more than a match for him and his shoulders slumped as defeat enveloped him.

Turning to look back into the room, as he was lead away, Simon saw Craig's body still slumped unmoving against the wall and he smiled to himself in the knowledge that at last John Paul was free.

* * *

"John Paul," Carol the pretty brunette receptionist said quietly as she peered around the door into the blonde man's office. "There's a policeman here to see you."

John Paul felt his heart stop beating for a moment as the tall, fair haired police officer strode into his office. The man's expression was grave and John Paul had to hold back the urge to scream out that he didn't want to know.

"Mr McQueen," the officer began kindly, "I'm afraid there's been an incident involving your partner Craig Dean and a Mr Simon Gibson."

* * *

"I thought I'd lost you," John Paul said quietly, his voice trembled as he spoke, heavy with unshed tears. Tears that had been there ever since the police officer walked into his office.

"I'm fine," Craig replied with a gentle smile, the dark circles under his eyes and deep purple bruising around his neck contradicting his words entirely.

* * *

John Paul couldn't remember getting to the hospital, he couldn't even recall if the police had taken him or if someone had given him a lift, the only thing he was certain of was that he hadn't driven himself. He had been shaking far too much to be able to safely grip onto the steering wheel. He still was.

The moment he had heard the word 'incident' connected with Craig and Simon's names John Paul had been convinced that Simon had finally managed to achieve what he wanted, had managed to get Craig out of John Paul's life. In his mind John Paul could already see his life stretching out ahead of him, cold and empty, alone without the comfort of Craig's love.

John Paul's mind had been in turmoil, racing from one thought to another without hearing a word the policeman said to him. One moment John Paul was wondering who would tell Frankie? Now she really would have something to hate the blonde man for. The next instant John Paul was wondering if Salome should be told, the divorce wasn't finalised yet, did that make her Craig's next of kin? He had felt sick, confused, disorientated, but most of all John Paul had been gripped by an overwhelming sense of fear. If Simon really had taken Craig from him how was he supposed to carry on? Did he even want to?

The word hospital had penetrated John Paul's hazy mind and a whole new panic had gripped the man. They didn't want him to identify Craig's body did they? He wasn't sure he could cope with that, with seeing the man he loved more than life itself lying dead and cold in some soulless hospital mortuary.

"I can't do it," John Paul had breathed, not sure if the words were even loud enough to be heard by anyone but himself.

"Can't do what?" Carol had asked gently, her arm tight around John Paul's shoulders, exactly where it had been the whole time.

She had always been fond of the blonde man who breezed into his office every morning with a smile and a kind word. Not once had he ever blamed someone else for a mistake he made, or yelled at a junior employee when something had gone wrong, and Carol couldn't think of many of the others in the surrounding offices that she could say the same about.

John Paul turned his hollow blue eyes to the young woman and she almost winced at the sight of so much pain.

"I can't go an see his body," John Paul had whispered back to her.

"Oh John Paul," Carol's tone had been warm and comforting, "He's not dead… he's in the hospital waiting for you…"

* * *

"I'm so sorry," John Paul said as he reached out and gripped Craig's hand tightly. Craig's touch was impossibly warm, not the chilled lifeless flesh that John Paul had all too recently feared. "If I'd known…"

"Hey… no," Craig reprimanded, "I don't want to hear any of that OK… None of this is your fault, none of it!"

"But if I'd…"

"What John Paul? If you'd what? You didn't know what Simon was capable of… you didn't know just how unhinged he'd become… the only thing you did wrong was…" Craig laughed and squeezed John Paul's hand tightly, "…was to be too irresistible to forget!"

"How the hell did this happen?" John Paul asked with a shake of his head. "Was Simon always like that and I just never saw it? How could I have not known? The letters, the turning up at my birthday… I just thought he was bitter, after some revenge… not this, I never thought him capable of this…"

"Neither of us did," Craig replied, "If I'd even suspected I would never have gone round there…"

"Why did you?"

"To tell him to leave you alone… leave us alone…"

"I guess he'll be doing that from now on," John Paul said with a sad shrug. He found it hard to reconcile the person he had once considered to be his future with the obsessed man who had nearly taken his future from him.

After being led from his house by the police Simon had been taken to a secure psychiatric ward for "observation". No one expected to see him released any time soon. Not only had Simon become obsessed with John Paul in a way that had almost resulted in Craig's death but, as the police looked around his house, it had become clear that his plans had been sinister for a long time, Craig turning up at the house has just advanced Simon's ultimate goal. The officer had been shocked to find a make-shift explosive in Simon's kitchen, together with plans of how and when he would be able to attach it to Craig's car. Simon hadn't planned to let Craig survive to the end of the month.

The two men sat in silence for a while, their fingers tightly entwined on top of the cool cotton of the hospital sheets, both of them lost in the frightening thoughts of what might have been.

Craig couldn't remember much of what happened in Simon's house after he began to lose consciousness. He hadn't been aware of the timely arrival of the police. He didn't recall the air beginning to rush hungrily back into his lungs that burned through the lack of oxygen. He had a vague memory of the paramedics talking to him as they lifted him into the ambulance but Craig's foggy brain hadn't been able to focus on their words and he could only think of one thing to say. "John Paul."

"I kept trying to call you," John Paul said after a while, remembering how scared he had felt when he couldn't get hold of Craig on the telephone, now he knew why. "I had some news…"

"Yeah? What news?" Craig smiled, trying not to wince at the pain of the bruising around his throat, John Paul was feeling guilty enough and Craig didn't want to add to that.

"I've been offered a promotion," John Paul replied somewhat shyly.

"That's brilliant!"

"If I take it…"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"It's in the London office… it means us moving to London…"

Craig looked into the deep blue of John Paul's eyes. There was such a sparkling clarity to them, they really did let Craig see into John Paul's soul and the sight wrapped him in warmth. He could see everything he ever needed in those eyes, everything that would make his life complete.

"Take it," Craig replied with certainty.

"Just like that?" John Paul asked, "You say take it without even thinking about it?"

"Is it something you want?"

"Well yeah but…"

"So take it…"

"But what about your job? Your family? You'd leave them behind like that… for me?"

"I'll get another job… I can visit mum sometimes… It just, it feels right John Paul, doesn't it? You and me and a new start away from all of this… Just us."

John Paul smiled as he leant forward to kiss Craig's mouth gently. Craig's lips felt dry against John Paul's and there was a strange urgency in the kiss that neither of them had ever felt before. Craig's hands slid behind John Paul's neck and he pulled the man tighter against him with a desperate need to be held close as the fear of what almost happened hit both men in a terrifying wash of emotion.

John Paul felt the burn of hot tears against his cheek and he wasn't sure if they were his or Craig's. "Just us," he breathed into his lover's mouth. "Just us."

* * *

John Paul lay in silence. The bed felt cold and empty and Craig's absence by his side made the blonde man shiver. Craig had been kept in hospital overnight to make sure there were no lasting complications from his strangulation, but the vacant half of the bed taunted John Paul with the knowledge that Craig's absence was frighteningly close to being permanent.

Turning his face to one side John Paul stared at the framed photograph that he kept beside his bed. It was an old picture he had found some months earlier and show the two men, barely more than boys at the time, posing for Frankie in their rented tuxedo's the day before the school dance. The dance that began everything and changed both of their lives irrevocably.

John Paul's right hand moved subconsciously to his throat, his fingers wrapping around the necklace that had been repaired and never taken off since getting it back from the jewellers. Closing his eyes John Paul sighed, he wanted Craig home and when he got there he was never going to let his dark haired lover out of his sight again.

* * *

Craig couldn't settle. The unfamiliar surrounding and noise of the hospital was enough to keep sleep from him, but the lack of John Paul's steady breathing and the warmth of the mans body by his side was the true reason that Craig was unable to sleep.

Craig touched at the bruising around his throat and winced. While he was pinned to the wall with Simon's fingers tightening around his neck Craig had truly believed that he had seen John Paul for the last time and his eyes fought to focus on one of the many images that adorned the walls around him. If he was going to die Craig wanted the last image he saw to be of that beautiful man.

Lying in his hospital bed Craig closed his eyes and recalled John Paul's image perfectly. No one was ever going to take John Paul from him again. No one and nothing.

* * *

"Post's here," John Paul said as he walked into the kitchen and dropped an assortment of envelopes on the large pine table.

Flicking through a selection of bills Craig pulled out two envelopes that were addressed to him and tore them open as John Paul poured himself another cup of tea and joined his boyfriend for breakfast.

The kitchen, as with most of the rooms in the new house, was still filled with an assortment of boxes that were getting unpacked slowly as the items inside them were needed. But neither man minded having to rummage through the brown boxes whenever they needed something, or tripping up over them if they had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Neither of them minded because they were together. Despite everything that had been thrown at them they had survived and, less then two months after Craig had nearly died, they were packed and ready to start their new lives.

"Anything interesting?" John Paul asked nodding at the papers in Craig's hands.

"Kinda," Craig replied handing the document to his boyfriend. "My decree absolute… I'm a free man!"

John Paul smiled widely as he read the words that officially ended Craig's marriage to a woman he never really loved.

"What's in the other envelope?" John Paul asked, placing the decree absolute to one side, and wondering for a moment if getting it framed might be a little tasteless.

"Something for you," Craig replied with a grin as he passed the second envelope to his lover.

Slipping the contents from the white envelope John Paul looked back at Craig and frowned.

"Tickets?" he asked.

"Yeah," Craig said, reaching for John Paul's hand and holding it tightly, "for Zante… you and me… I once made the mistake of taking the wrong person there… thought it was time I corrected that!"

"You're insane Craig Dean," John Paul said with a laugh.

"But you love me…"

"You know I do…"

"So… Zante? Fancy it?"

"I fancy you… does that count?"

"Yeah that'll do… now c'mere."

Leaning over the table Craig pulled the love of his life towards him and kissed the man deeply, a kiss that felt like the start of things. The beginning of the rest of their lives, together.

* * *

The two men walked slowly over the warm golden sands of Porto Koukla beach, their bare feet sinking into the soft sand and their fingers hooked loosely together as they headed towards the edge of the water.

The daylight was beginning to fade and the normally quiet beach seemed deserted but for the two men. Although in truth they wouldn't have been aware of anyone even if the sands had been filled with crowds. They only saw each other, just as they had for the last few days.

The first week of John Paul and Craig's holiday had both gone by in a flash, but also seemed to last a lifetime as they took joy in the simple pleasure of just being together. The beauty of Zante wasn't lost on them as they explored all that it had to offer. Finding a special joy both in the quiet of the more secluded Porto Koukla beach and also in the breathtaking splendour of Navagio, also known as Shipwreck beach, marvelling at the stranded boat that had been shipwrecked there nestled in the cove of glistening white limestone cliffs.

But despite the beauty of their surroundings neither man had seen anything able to take their breath away as quickly and surely as the love they saw in the depths of each other's eyes.

Dipping his toes in the warm azure waters that were almost as blue as his eyes John Paul sighed with contentment and turned to smile at the dark haired man at his side.

Craig's stunning good looks appeared to be framed by his surrounding, a true Greek Adonis, his firmly toned body showing through the contours of his pale blue shirt and his chocolate brown eyes glistening in the fading evening light.

"Thank you," John Paul said quietly, his voice low and soft, not wanting to shatter the peace that seemed to envelope the two men.

"What for?" Craig asked in an equally soft voice, tilting his head to one side slightly in question.

"For this," John Paul said gesturing at their surrounding, "For bringing me here, for… for everything… it's perfect… it's all perfect."

"I should have done it sooner," Craig replied with a small laugh, "I should have done it so much sooner… so much wasted time John Paul… so much we could have…"

"It doesn't matter… we're here now… now's what matters… all that matters."

Craig kicked at the water that was lapping over his ankles, causing it to splash against John Paul's legs and making both men laugh gently as they kicked and splashed in the warm sea until the bottom of their trousers were soaked through.

As their laughter drifted out with the sea the men gravitated together, their arms slipping naturally around each other's waists and their heads resting comfortably on the other's shoulder to settle into the embrace that felt as instinctive as breathing, as if their bodies had been created to fit together so perfectly.

"You know I never…" John Paul breathed into the sweet fragrant warmth of Craig's skin.

"What?"

"It's just I…"

"Go on…"

Pulling back John Paul stroked one hand over Craig's cheek, his thumb touching at the mole above the man's lip for a moment. Every time that John Paul looked into Craig's eyes he lost himself. He had never known a love like the one he felt for the man who had captured his heart so long ago only to break it, and he had never expected to feel it again, or to recapture the love that he thought he had lost.

"I never thought I'd have this."

"This?"

"You… us… I hated you when you left me all those years ago, but no matter how much I hated you I could never stop loving you… I would dream about you sometimes, dream that one day you'd come back and it would be just like it was only… only you did but it isn't…"

"Isn't it?" Craig asked with a frown.

"Of course not," John Paul replied with a smile that made the blue of his eyes shine like a thousand sapphires. "It's better Craig… it's so much better…"

"I love you John Paul McQueen," Craig said happily, "I can't believe there was a time I was afraid to say that… I was afraid to feel it… but I do… I…" Turning his head to the sky Craig called out loudly, "I love John Paul McQueen!"

"Craig shush," John Paul giggled, his cheeks flush with a blend of embarrassment and pride.

"Never," Craig said with a rebellious laugh. "Cause I love you and I'm gonna tell the world about it!"

"I don't think the world cares."

"Well it should… are you listening world? Cause I love this man…"

"Craig Dean you are crazy," John Paul said, laughing as Craig's hands slipped into his own and the older man began to spin them around in the water.

"Crazy for you," Craig agreed laughing louder the faster they spun.

"Craig stop it," John Paul chuckled as their feet began to tangle beneath them causing them to fall in a giggling heap into the warm sea.

"Stopped!" Craig announced, splashing the fair-haired man at his side with water.

"Bit late," John Paul replied, "We're soaked!"

"Good!"

"Good?"

"Yeah… you look hot all wet like that…" Craig placed his palm against the wet shirt covering John Paul's firm chest, the man's heart beat a steady and powerful rhythm at Craig's touch as he was pushed backwards.

Craig's kiss began softly, their lips touching tentatively like new lovers savouring the first taste of each other, but it soon grew as their mouths opened to welcome in the hot delights of each other's tongues, pressing and dancing together as the waters of the sea lapped around the men, wrapping them in its rocking embrace.

Pressing his fingers into the damp sand Craig raised himself up to gaze down on his lover. Water ran from his hair and trickled in rivulets down his face to splash onto John Paul, making the man laugh.

Reaching up his hands John Paul clawed his nails through Craig's sodden hair, raking it back away from Craig's face as he arched himself upwards to claim another kiss from Craig's soft, inviting mouth.

"Tell me again," John Paul whispered against Craig's lips.

"Tell you what?"

"That you love me…"

"John Paul I love you… more than… more than…" Craig hesitated. There was nothing comparable to the love he felt for the man, nothing in the universe could even come close to the size of his love.

"More than?" John Paul prompted.

"More than…" Craig shook his head slowly; there were just no words. Kissing his lover again Craig got to his feet and, bending down, he pulled John Paul up after him.

Craig looked out to the sea in silence. The sun was low on the horizon casting a hue of golden colours into the darkening sky, making it appear like it was on fire and Craig watched as the sea began to extinguish the ball of the sun as it sank slowly into it.

"Craig," John Paul said, his hand searching for his boyfriends and holding it tightly, "Is everything OK?"

John Paul was startled to see tears shimmering in Craig's deep brown eyes as the man turned to look at him.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Craig replied with a smile as tears began to trickle over his cheeks, "Nothing at all…"

"Then why the tears?"

"I don't know."

"You are crazy," John Paul teased gently as he leant forward to kiss the tears from Craig's cheeks.

"I love you so much John Paul… I never thought I could feel like this, I don't even know the words for it… it's so… I just… I…"

"I know," John Paul replied, "I know because that's how I feel… every day, every minute of every day… I love you too Craig…"

"So marry me."

"What?" The suddenness of the proposal took the air from John Paul's lungs, the words as unexpected to him as they were to Craig. Yet the moment they were uttered they felt right, so very right.

"I love you," Craig repeated, "Marry me…"

"I… I…" John Paul stared into Craig's eyes and all thought left him. There was no need for thought to answer a question that was so simple. "Yes," he said with a smile that shone brighter than the setting sun, "Yes… god yes!"

Wrapping his arm around Craig's waist John Paul kissed his new fiancé's cheek and giggled.

"What?" Craig asked as the two men turned from the water and began to make their way back to their hotel.

"Craig McQueen… it's got a nice ring to it…"

"Err John Paul Dean I think you mean…"

"McQueen-Dean?"

"Dean-McQueen…"

The two men continued to laugh as they walked. The final rays of sunlight illuminated the night sky, an orchestra of golds and reds dancing on the surface of the sea in a display of unsurpassed beauty, but neither man noticed.

Looking into each other's eyes they both saw a level of beauty that nothing else in the universe could ever possess, the beauty of a love that they planned to share for the rest of their lives.


End file.
